


Stranger Than Fiction

by toonwalla



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crime, F/M, Family, Gen, Humour, Romance, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-02-03 17:58:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 97,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1753589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toonwalla/pseuds/toonwalla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes never really believed in fairy tales. Facts had always been more fascinating to study. But what will he do when two children and a mysterious woman arrive at 221B Baker Street with a letter and trouble not too far behind. Will he take their case? And if he does go down this rabbit hole, will Sherlock find the truth? And will he be able to tell fact... from fiction?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Once Upon A Time...

A woman in her early thirties shoved her hands in the pockets of her dark grey pea coat. The air around her in the small grey street was cold. It didn’t help that whatever light was shining from the moon behind her had been covered over by dark clouds.

_Almost there! Almost there!_

The woman clutched at her messenger bag as the deep rumbling sound of thunder rolled in the distance.

She winced as a gust of chilly wind blew from behind her making her deep toffee blonde waves fly up in her face.

She spluttered as a couple of strands got caught on her tongue as she turned to face the front of a shop at the bottom of a three storied building.

The wood that framed the large curtained windows was painted a shiny ebony that made the white crisp text over the large doorway seem to pop out in the light of the street lamp above.

_The Raven’s Writing Desk_

The woman smiled as she came to the locked door from which a sign hung from the old fashioned brass doorknob shaped like a raven’s head.

_Sorry we are closed_

She turned the little silver key in her hand turned it in the lock until she heard the click and quickly slipped inside.

Despite the space being almost pitch black she managed to manoeuvre her way around a couple of tables piled with towers of books, behind the small cash register on the desk and through the small beaded drapes that separated the shop from a small lounge without stumbling once.

The woman sighed as she flipped on a small lamp on a side table before quietly slumping into a soft black leather arm chair.

“God…That was pointless” she groaned running her hands through her hair as she tried to settle it back down.

“…the idiot was a smoker with a drinking problem”

The woman turned her head to peer around the back of her chair.

She smiled as the silhouette of another woman appeared in the doorway behind which a narrow flight of carpeted stairs wound upwards into the upper floors of the building.

“Did the tiny terrors keep you up again?”

The woman didn’t respond but instead walked slowly towards her and into the light.

The blonde woman in the chair’s face fell as she caught sight of her friend. Her shoulder length dark curly brown hair was messed up and frazzled like her light verdigris eyes. She was wearing a dark green trench coat, the collar of which was pulled up to hide her attractive high cheekbones.

“You…aren’t ready for bed…?” the blonde’s eyebrows rose in astonishment.

 “There is no time for sleep…not now…we have to leave” The brunette shook her head her lips pursed in a thin line as she strode over to the blonde and pulled her up to her feet.

“Argh! I’ve just come back from the worst date in the history of this planet! I think I deserve some semblance of peace for tonight don’t you?” the blonde hissed as she was dragged up both flights of stairs and into a narrow hallway lined with black painted doors.

 “We don’t have time for peace. We have to get out of here. Now hurry up I’ve called two cabs and they’ll be here in fifteen minutes” the brunette quickly opened one of the doors and shoved her friend inside.

“No not until you tell me what the hell is going on!” the blonde grabbed the brunette’s arm before she could turn around completely, her green hazel eyes flashing but her friend just shook her head and whispered.

“Wake him up and get his shoes on. I’ll tell you when you get downstairs”

She tugged her arm out of the blonde’s grip and strode down the hall till she reached the next door, which she entered quickly.

The blonde rolled her eyes but nonetheless turned back into the room.

Inside a little figure was sleeping under the blue covers of a large bed, which was pushed underneath a small window, perpendicular to a small writing desk.

She approached the bed quietly as a cat and sat down on the edge. When the mattress dipped a tiny moan issued from within the depths of the blue covers.

“Aunty…”

The blonde woman smiled tenderly as a curly mop of light blonde hair popped up in the darkness. The boy could not have been more than eight years old and his light eyes were half closed as he sleepily looked at her.

“Hey buddy” she reached out to stroke the golden locks out of his eyes. “Listen I know you’re still sleepy but you’ve gotta get up now. We gotta go”

“Where?” he pouted tilting his head to the side.

_Good question…_

But instead of voicing her thoughts the woman bit her lip and smiled as best as she could at that moment in time.

“It’s a surprise from your mum”

The boy nodded sleepily and allowed the woman to pull him out of his cocoon of blankets and settle him down on the edge of the bed. When she finished tying his shoelaces of his trainers and had settled a thick jacket about his shoulders, his little thin body keeled over into her arms where he proceeded to start snoring softly.

The woman shook her head fondly but nonetheless picked him up in her arms and carried him out the door and down the stairs.

She saw her friend the brunette when she arrived in the sitting room, holding a young girl around the same age as the boy that shared much of her features including her dark curly hair, though hers was much shorter.

The blonde glowered as she silently mouthed to the mother.

“What the hell is going on?”

The brunette gave a meaningful look and jerked her head towards the beaded drape that separated the home from the shop out front, before quickly striding over towards it.

The blonde rolled her eyes as she followed, still carrying the boy in her arms as they made their way out the front of the building.

One large cab was waiting.

The blonde looked up and down the street.

“Where’s the other cab?”

The brunette shut her eyes and bit her lip as the cabbie, a middle aged man with a balding head, hopped out of the driver’s seat and opened the door for her.

“It’ll come in half an hour”

The blonde’s eyes widened as she saw the brunette settle her little daughter into the back seat before motioning to her to hand over her son.

“All your trunks are packed and in the boot already” the mother said, her voice cracking slightly as she leaned in to kiss both her children on their foreheads.

The blonde stepped towards her and grabbed at her wrist.

“You’re their mother. You should go with them. They need you”

But said mother just shook her head and for the first time the blonde saw tears well up in the pale eyes as she shook her head.

“What they need…” she scrubbed her eyes on her sleeves as she tried to hold down a sniffle “is to go somewhere safe…somewhere far away from me as possible…as long as I stay with any of you now you’ll all be in danger.”

“But I can’t leave you behind alone” the blonde hissed “god knows what could happen.”

“And god only knows what would happen to them if I let _him_ get his hands on…” the brunette trailed off as she choked down a sob. With trembling fingers she reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a white envelope.

“There is only one place I can be sure you’ll all be safe”

She handed it to the blonde who took it gingerly.

“I’ve already told the driver where to go. It’s in London…it should be a fairly nice area. There’s a hospital nearby and a decent school the kids can go to.”

“We can’t just drop and change schools at the drop of a hat though” the blonde glared fiercely “there are laws you know”

 “Laws can be bent…depending on who you know”

“And you know someone with that amount of power?”

“Of course I do. That’s what this letter is for you dingbat!” The brunette rolled her eyes, but then quickly added in an undertone “Just give this letter to the man that lives at the address. Everything else then will fall into place”

“And what about you?” the blonde gulped. “What will you do? Where will you go?”

“I…I can’t tell you that…with the situation at hand I’ll probably have to disappear off the map for a while”

“Do you know how long that will be?”

“…No…”

There was a deafening silence between the two women in which even the very cold night air seemed to stand still around them as they both looked at each other their eyes wandering over each other’s faces as understanding dawned on both ends.

It was the blonde that broke the silence and her voice was heavy and strained.

“So I guess…this is it…for now…”

“…yes…” the brunette nodded “I believe it is”

 “…Take care of yourself…” the blonde gripped at her friends hands tightly.

“…I’ll try my best…but I can’t make any promises…”

“I know”

The two women nodded and let each other go. There was no goodbye. Not that either of them needed to say it. Besides…it was easier this way and farewells would just complicate the matter unnecessarily.

The blonde settled herself into the back of the taxi in-between the two sleeping children. The brunette stood on the pavement holding her coat tight about her as like earlier that night, a clap of thunder rolled overhead. She was gazing at the back of the car seat heads, her eyes over bright as a tear dribbled down her cheek.

Or was that one of the drops of falling rain that had fallen from the sky and landed on her face. The blonde couldn’t tell anymore. She turned her head back to face the driver.

“You know where we’re going?”

“Yes mam” The man nodded solemnly.

“Then hop to it quick smart” she clipped coldly.

He nodded again and turned round to face the front before switching the vehicle on and quickly driving onto the empty road. It wasn’t the greatest automobile but it was fairly comfortable considering the task it and its driver had been appointed to.

There were a couple of grunts as the boy and girl on either side of her wriggled around so that they snuggled into her sides, their eyes still shut tight as they snored lightly.

The woman sighed and the cabbie looked back on her his eyes full of gentle compassion.

“You want the heater on for the little ones?” He asked

“Definitely” the blonde nodded as the car began to roll down the street, bumping a little over the uneven asphalt below.

She held on tight onto the envelope in her hands, frowning as the lettering on the front was illuminated by a passing street lamp outside the window.

_What the-?_

Her green hazel eyes narrowed with confusion as she checked the name again as they stopped under a red traffic light.

_Who the heck is Sherlock Holmes?_


	2. The Third Musketeer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock is bored and John is at a loss for what to do to distract him until a case arrives. Hopefully they don't have to wait too long.

**BANG**!

 _Bored_!

**BANG-BANG!**

_Still Bored!_

**BANG-BANG-BANG!**

_Still very-_

“Oh for god’s sake! SHERLOCK!!”

Pale verdigris eyes snapped open only to catch a glimpse of the six holes in the ceiling above.

They were currently all aligned in the shape of a cross.

_…oh interesting…_

A pair of arms pulled down the gun from its position pointed up at the ceiling and crammed it into the depths of blue silk as a pair of ears twitched at the sounds of the thundering of feet down a flight of stairs.

_Boots…Rubber soles with good grip, most likely leather. And he’s wearing the old jeans too…_

There was an angry snort as the owner of the pair of legs currently being analysed stepped over the threshold and strode into the very cluttered and disorganised living room. He was short in height with blonde hair and a pleasant face that was currently twisted in a deep scowl as he crossed over to the large blue bundle on the worn out sofa.

“Sherlock give me the gun” the man held out his hand towards the lump.

“What gun?” it muttered in a deep voice.

“You know bloody well what gun I’m talking about you git. Now hand it over” The man rolled his eyes.

The lump rolled over onto its back and the man glowered as a pale angular face became visible to him and pouted childishly.

“I’m bored John” Sherlock groaned, but nonetheless he handed over the small firearm to his friend, albeit rather reluctantly. “I haven’t had a case for over three weeks. If I don’t get something good to work on my mind will rot”

“What about your site? Or the blog?” John suggested airily as he made his way into his chair by the fireside.

“Already tried that.” Sherlock mumbled “two separate cheating spouses and a pair of parents who have told their little girl Gabby that her pet dog Yogi ran away even though he obviously was put down for attacking another human whilst on a walk.”

“Wow…that’s uh…” John scratched his nose feeling rather sorry for the poor parent’s predicament.

“Boring?” Sherlock suggested.

“I was going to say sad”

“What for? The dog’s breed is known to be prone to aggressive behaviour. If anything the three of them are probably safer off without it.”

“That’s not what I meant”

“Ah” Sherlock nodded slowly as comprehension dawned on him “Sentiment…”

“Yes Sherlock, sentiment” John looked up at the bullet holes in the ceiling and sighed. “You know Mrs Hudson is not going to be happy about _that_ ”

“Oh she won’t notice, besides she won’t be back for another hour or so.” Sherlock shrugged finally sitting up in his spot on the sofa and swinging his legs down so that his feet slid into comfy black slippers set at its base.

“Well that was a productive morning. Now off to the morgue”

Had it not been for the last word it would have sounded like Sherlock was going to go to a delightful little grocery store but John knew better.

He shook his head with exasperation as his flatmate quickly shuffled out of the room in all the glory of his dressing gown and slippers.

Later that evening he’d probably find the fridge full of severed thumbs or toes.

That is…if he was lucky…

He looked up from his morning paper as Sherlock came quickly back into the room, settling his deep blue scarf around the neck of his black Belstaff coat.

“Right then I’m off” he nodded briskly not even bothering to look back as John called after him

“Have a nice day then”.

Sherlock smirked to himself as he quickly stepped down the narrow staircase and down to the ground floor just as there came a knock on the front door.

He froze on the final step frowning slightly. The sounds were timid and much lighter than a normal person’s.

He frowned as he came up to the dark doorway and cautiously looked out the peephole.

A person was standing outside with their back to the door.

_Client_

He mused as he saw their body’s twitch as they fidgeted nervously. They appeared to be holding something in them but he could not clearly see. He turned the knob and pulled the door open.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the much brighter light of the sunny day outside. But when they did Sherlock’s brows rose.

The woman’s long toffee blonde finger waves glistened as they swished around in the grey sunlight. It was such a rich colour that it stood out starkly against her black pea coat, dark jeans and red painted lips. Her green hazel eyes were staring up at him wide and brimming with nervous confusion.

_In her early thirties or late twenties. Eyes have dark circles but she has hidden them under make up…very recently…probably only an hour ago. The rest of her skin is oily. It has been some time since she’s been able to wash it. Her clothes are slightly worn out and grubby and practical, but the quality of the fabric suggests she’s fairly well off…but given her current demeanour she’s had to leave her creature comforts in a rush…she’s on the run…but from what?_

_From…what…_

The corners of Sherlock’s mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly as he spoke softly and in a low voice.

“Hello”

“…hi…” the woman muttered tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and bit her lip nervously. “Are…are you Sherlock Holmes?”

“Yes” Sherlock quirked an eyebrow. “And you are?”

“Rebecca” the woman gulped as she tried to meet his eye. “Rebecca Monday.”

“And pray tell what business do you have with me Miss Monday?”

“I…” but then she sighed “I honestly don’t know Mr Holmes”

She quickly pressed something into his hands turning her face away with her eyes shut.

Sherlock felt paper brush against the pads of his fingers and looked down. He now appeared to be holding onto a plain white envelope on which his name had been written in blue ink, from a very common ballpoint nib that had been held in the left hand, but a part form that there was nothing else he could distinguish.

Whoever had written this had been very careful not to use any inflections of any kind in their typography.

He quickly glanced at the woman standing in front of him and down at her hands.

_Nope definitely right handed._

He caught sight of her noticing his gaze and quickly turned his attention back to the envelope which he opened gingerly.

It was only sealed very lightly so it wasn’t difficult to acquire the folded up letter inside of it.

“No…this…this can’t be…”

Rebecca watched with bated breath as Sherlock’s eyes widened with every sweep down every line of the page.

Finally after a long moment he looked back up at her, quickly settling his face into a blank mask.

“Where are they?” he clipped, though Rebecca swore she could hear something akin to a waver in the deep tones.

“Right here” She turned her head to the foot of the steps that led up to the doors of Speedy’s Cafe where two little figures were sitting huddled in dark jackets.

Sherlock’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he quickly looked up and down Baker street. It was fairly quiet. Only the usual joggers and passers-by, most of them travelling on the other side of the street with barely any attention to spare for the small set of apartments that he and his new clients were now in front of.

 “Get in…Now” he muttered sharply standing aside and holding the door open.

\----

John Watson looked up from over the top of his morning’s newspaper as he saw Sherlock stride back into the apartment his pale face grim and focused, a letter clutched in his hand.

“Bad mail again?” John’s eyebrows rose.

“Something like that” Sherlock’s eyes flashed dangerously towards the door into their apartment.

John turned his head to look and quickly stood up.

A woman with wavy blonde hair and hazel eyes, wearing a black pea coat and dark jeans and boots walked into the room, pulling behind her a large trunk as two children, a boy and a girl followed her inside.

They both were probably around eight to nine years old at most, but were built along the smaller side. The girl was by far the least timid of them both and looked around the messy apartment with her large dark blue eyes, her deep chocolate curls bouncing with each turn of the head.

But it was the boy that held John’s attention.

The cheekbones, the light verdigris eyes, the nose and heck even the mouth were all exactly the same shape and held in place in the same spots on the face. The only thing that was stopping him from being Sherlock’s miniature clone was the beautiful light blonde curls that sat atop his head!

John gaped as Sherlock re-entered the room holding out three of their large sized towels.

“You can use these for your baths” he handed them to Rebecca who nodded.

“Thank you Mr Holmes”

“Aunty Becca?” The girl looked up at Rebecca rubbing sleepily at one of her tired eyes. “Where are we? And who is that?”

She pointed up at Sherlock who stiffened a little where he stood.

Rebecca saw his discomfort and immediately swooped in.

“Tabby…Teddy… This is Mr. Holmes.”

“Sherlock” Sherlock quickly coughed looking down on little girl whose eyes were now narrowed on him warily like a nervous horse. “You may call me Sherlock”

“and who’s that?” The boy, looked towards John who quickly settled his face into his best child friendly smile as he strode forwards.

“I’m John, John Watson” he held out his hand to Rebecca who nodded in acknowledgement.

“Rebecca Monday. And this is Tabatha and Theodore Jones, but you can call them Tabby and Teddy” she put a hand on each of the children’s shoulders.

“I see… well then hello Tabby…Teddy how are you” John smiled kindly at the children who shrunk away a little to hide behind Rebecca’s legs.

“Sorry Mr Watson they’re a bit tired. We’ve been travelling all night.” she shrugged apologetically but John smiled warmly.

“It’s alright. So…what brings you three to Baker Street?”

“We’re supposed to be meeting mummy here aren’t we Aunty” Tabatha and Theodore both looked up at the older women their faces brimming with expectancy.

“Yeah…we are…”

John saw her face falter slightly and turned to his friend in confusion, only to see the same strained look on Sherlock’s face as well.

“Your mother won’t be here for quite some time” the detective’s voice rumbled through the room making the kids scurry behind Rebecca’s legs yet again. “You should all take a rest”

 “You can use my room” John offered quickly “and Sherlock barely uses his so you could sleep there as well. They’re just upstairs and to the left.”

“thanks” Rebecca sighed in relief as she saw Theodore stifle a large yawn behind his hand.

“Come on you two let’s get you some sleep”

She quickly led them both up the stairs, quickly chancing a look back just before she could get out of eye sight.

When she was completely gone John turned to Sherlock who held out his hand.

A piece of paper was laying in it.

“What is it?”

“Our new case”

John cautiously took it in his hand and read aloud softly.

_“My Dearest Sherlock,_

_It has been a long time since our last adventures together, though I hear that recently you’ve been enjoying solving crimes and saving Britain with your good doctor. I am glad to see you have flourished so well into such a noble man, not like our dear Porky Porthos. Some diet he’s on, he seems to have gained more weight rather than lose it._

_But I digress._

_I know my contact with you has been…limited over the past few years and I know it is unforgivable that I ask you this favour in spite of that. But the time has come and I have no one else to turn to, no one else I can trust to protect that which is precious to me, my dearest friend Rebecca Monday, and my two babies, Theodore and Tabatha._

_I cannot express how important it is for you and Porky to help them now, for wherever they go the most heinous crimes are bound to follow. Such is the unfortunate curse I have brought upon them._

_And yet it is because of that I will have to vanish yet again, though I loathe the thought of leaving any of you behind. The road into darkness is lonesome and cold._

_I do hope this reaches you safely and by the right hands._

_With love forever and always,_

_The Third Musketeer.”_ John looked up as Sherlock bristled his face an uncomfortable mask.

“The Third Musketeer… who’s that?”

Sherlock shut his eyes as if the next few words were causing him unimaginable pain. Finally he mumbled under his breath.

“My sister…”

“SISTER?!” John stared up at him dumbfounded.

But Sherlock merely turned his back on him as he strode over towards the kitchen deftly flicking out his phone and quickly dialling a number.

“Mycroft” he snapped icily as soon as his ear was to the receiver. “It’s Gwen…She’s in trouble…and she’s gone and dumped her kids on me”


	3. Old Man Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever wondered why Mycroft hates family reunions?

“Ted! Teddy wake up” a little girl’s voice hissed.

The blonde haired boy cracked open a pale eye which glared blearily up into the face of his twin sister.

She was wide awake her short dark curls bouncing around her face and her blue eyes brimming with excitable energy.

“Tabby get off” Theodore whined,

Tabatha pouted but quickly scrambled off her brother who yawned widely. He looked around them both, taking in the expanse of the room.

_A bedroom…a grown up’s bedroom…dressing gown on the back of the door…belongs to a tall man…but he doesn’t stay much in here because most of the surfaces are neat and clean without many scratches…a periodic table in a frame…scientist? Or not…his bookshelf has lots and lots of non-fiction but most are weird and are not organised properly and all have mismatching subject matter… but he is still pretty smart because all of them look pretty high up there…_

He quickly crawled over the bed covers to peer down over the edge.

_Aunty Becca’s trunk is open and her coats folded…she must’ve been in here to change…but where is here?_

“I looked out the window earlier. We’re at this weird place in London” Tabatha shrugged as she swung her legs over the side of the bed only for them to dangle a little above the ground.

Teddy nodded silently not really surprised at her perceptiveness as he hopped off the bed and stretched out.

He felt a bit of material scrape against his abdomen and looked down. He in a different pyjama set from the one he’d worn in the cab. That one had been batman themed but this was his blue tartan print.

He looked at his sister who was fiddling with the hem of her little Hello Kitty night dress, frowning before looking back up at him.

“Becca changed us”

“I know”

“So where is she?”

“Dunno”

“Maybe we should look?”

“Yeah maybe…Or…” Teddy looked at her blankly as he walked towards his suitcase, a dark navy blue one, and opened it, taking out a transparent plastic green toilet kit with two toothbrushes and a large tube of toothpaste inside.

Tabatha rolled her eyes and sighed as if the unasked question was as heavy as the burden of Atlas.

“Argh! Fine! Bathroom first…but it’s gonna be boring!”

\---

Rebecca didn’t know what to make of the three men in front of her.

Mycroft was the epitome of the stiff, prim and proper English gentleman, with his tailored suit, umbrella and tie. And yet somehow it felt strange… like she was staring at a mannequin. Everything was in place as it should be but it was merely a façade…fake… a blank slate for people to gloss over but not delve into.

Then there was John. The army doctor. Big emphasis on army. It was as plain as day for everyone to see. Or maybe that was just because she’d lived so close to a naval base for nearly all her childhood. That being said he had a very nice vibe about him that made her feel like she could almost trust him. But she would reserve judgement till the children had a proper look at them.

That gift of theirs may have driven her insane on many an occasion but it did have its merits.

Speaking of gift…

She turned round and was met by a sharp pair of verdigris eyes.

Sherlock Holmes, dapper, sharp and yet…odd…

The tall the dark haired form of the consulting detective fixed her in a piercing, unblinking stare, eyes roaming over her face like a computer would try to scan a barcode as she sat quietly in the client’s chair.

_Why?_

He frowned a little as he watched most of her minute movements. He had no trouble reading her emotions…it was just reading her profile that was proving difficult. She’d told him about her roots her child hood, her connection to his sister, so why were there still so many question marks around her.

She was still in her red and black silk dressing gown, but her wavy toffee hair was dry. He’d originally thought the waves were styled into place. But they were natural; she just had to straighten her side parting to the left to give her, her veronica-lake like hair.

Pity…if it had been styled he could have picked out the brand of hairspray she used and that would be something to work on.

Just what was blocking his brain from analysing her?

There was the gentle thumping from the stairwell. They all turned round to see two small figures rushing into the room, still in their blue and pink pyjamas.

“Aunty!” Theodore and Tabatha both cried out running towards Rebecca who opened up her arms which they flung themselves right into.

“Whoa! Easy there you two” She chuckled kissing both of them fondly on the top of their heads as they buried both their heads into each of her shoulders.

John smiled at the sweet scene but Sherlock quickly glanced towards his brother. Mycroft’s narrowed eyes met his own with what could only be described as angry confusion, especially when he caught sight of the boy, who in turn looked up at them from the hold of his carer.

“Becca… who’s that?” Theodore narrowed his eyes at Mycroft who titled his head to the side as Tabatha looked up to see what her brother was looking at.

“Who do you think I am?” the older Holmes raised his brows.

Both twins looked at each other before they both smirked. Rebecca let loose a small sigh of exasperation which John silently agreed with wholeheartedly.

“You’re Mr Sherlock’s brother” Theodore began.

“Yeah…because you both look similar a little bit” Tabatha agreed.

“and you can’t be cousins because you both sit similarly-”

“-and you’re really relaxed like you are comfortable with him around-” 

“-most likely because you’ve lived with him before even though you’re not close buddies-”

“-because if you didn’t you’d look even less comfortable than you already are-”

“But that could also be because of your clothes”

“Yeah, you wear a suit that costs a lot and it’s fitted by a tailor because-”

“You’re old and in your forties, but you’ve already got a bit of a belly-”

“-and you’re trying to hide it because you’re trying a diet and it’s not working-”

“-Which can be seen because even though you haven’t finished your food you are keeping it in your sight like you want to eat it later.”

“So love of eating,”

“Choice of clothes including that silk tie and those really pretty gold thingamajigs on your sleeves”

“Cufflinks Tabby, they’re cufflinks”

“Ah right! So nice clothes, loves to eat, can afford to spend big but holds himself really, really tall like he’s better than everyone.”

“Business man or-”

“-or government secret agent!”

“Are we right?!” the two children both cried out in unison grinning with delight at the astounded look on Mycroft’s face.

“Aha! Government secret agent it is!” Tabatha high fived her brother just as John turned to Sherlock with raised eyebrows and a small grin on his face.

“Sorry Sherlock but I think they’ve stolen your…hey Sherlock! Sherlock!”

But the consulting detective did not seem to hear him. His face had taken on a look of glazed happy wonder as he stared at the twins his eyes delightedly drinking in their appearance like a dehydrated man would a glass of water.

“Well, well.” he muttered quietly and the two twins both turned round rapidly to face him. “For ones so young your skills of deduction are quite well developed.”

“Uh…thanks Mr Sherlock” Tabatha exchanged a slightly confused look with her brother.

“Though there are certain areas that could be improved”

Tabatha’s face fell and as soon as it did there was a brief flash of anger in Theodore’s eyes. John stiffened uncomfortably in his seat. He’d thought that it was just a familial resemblance before but now he knew he was dead wrong. That look, that shrewd look of calculating anger, it almost definitely _was_ Sherlock’s.

“Such as?”

“Using all five senses and not just your sight, though that is quite remarkable in its own right” Sherlock replied just as coolly.

“And I suppose you would know how to do that?” the little boy raised his eyebrows now sounding a little bit more like Mycroft’s usual icy self.

 “Obviously” the corners of the detective’s mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly

“…prove it” Theodore growled.

There was a silence.

Rebecca bit her lip as she waited for Sherlock’s reply. She hoped to god that Theodore was not being too rude, but then again it wasn’t like she could ever stop him when he was reared to go. The boy could be as stubbornly feisty as a policeman’s sniffer dog when he wanted to be.

But then to her great surprise, Sherlock’s mouth split into a smug smirk.

“Fraternal Twins, boy, girl, polar opposite personalities but nonetheless inseparable. Girl,” he leant forwards to stare at Tabatha who puffed out her chest and stood her ground staring him dead on in the eye.

“Tabatha, nine years old. Judging by the small scuff marks on your knees you love playing sport particularly soccer. How do I know it’s soccer? Because there are also several scrape marks on your shins, your hair is short but still long enough to be practically tied back and you also have tan lines around the upper arms and just above your knees that doesn’t go all the way over your body, most likely because of a uniform. Your body language is also quite confident and you have no problem interacting in a group of people, suggesting that you have more contact with other children, mostly in a group or a team. So uniform, practical hair, scuffed legs and team player equals soccer. You also like sugary stuff because you keep glancing towards Mrs Hudson’s treats in the oven but not the main meal on the table, not that I blame you because she does bake a rather delicious choc-chip cookie.”

“Oh Sherlock” Mrs Hudson simpered fondly from her spot in the kitchen as she proceeded to take out a tray of said biscuits from the oven. But Sherlock ignored her in his usual fashion his small smirk widening with satisfaction with each word.

“However you did not brush your teeth properly this morning because your breath is not as minty as your brothers.”

Tabatha gave a sheepish look towards Rebecca who was now raising a stern brow at her as she stood up from her seat.

“Come on young lady, bathroom upstairs”

“Awww but aunty-”

“No buts! Teeth clean and face scrubbed now”

“But it’s so _boring_!” Tabatha whined loudly but her Aunt was already steering her towards the staircase with one hand on her shoulder. All the older men watched amusedly as the girl huffed and groaned all the way up until there was the distant sound of a door shutting loudly.

“And now we can get back down to business.” Sherlock leaned back languidly in his chair as he now turned attention towards Theodore who was still glaring at him.

“You on the other hand Theodore. You are quite disciplined in your morning routine. You’re in your pyjamas but you’ve taken the time out to settle your collar and neaten up your appearance before coming down. Also unlike your sister you’ve not just flossed and brushed your teeth but also gargled with Listerine and brushed out your hair. Even though it probably won’t make much difference considering how curly it all is”

“Oh like you’re one to talk” Mycroft snorted from the sidelines.

Sherlock waved his brother off  before bringing his hands in front of his face, the tips of his fingers pressing together as he held them close to his lips.

“You aren’t as active as your sister but you are just as smart and probably more book learned, considering the way you speak. Like her you have been looking at the food but you are also looking around at my case notes on the wall behind Rebecca. Don’t be alarmed” he added quickly as a small flash of fear crossed the boy’s face and John cried out in alarm only just noticing what his flatmate had just pointed out

“John and your Aunt might have their own concerns but I don’t mind you looking at my work. You may be nine but you’re not that innocent that you don’t understand what is going on behind me”

The boy nodded relaxing a little now that he knew he wasn’t in trouble.

 “Yes. All those red strings between the notes and pictures look random but they aren’t. They’re all connected” He walked over to the wall and pointed to a little blue pin sticking out in the centre which was blank of all paper save the printed wallpaper

“Kinda like a great big spider’s web with loads of flies” he tilted his head to the side as reached out to pluck one of the lines of red like one would a rubber band.

“A spider’s web…” Sherlock stood up and strode over to stand beside his nephew squinting at the point the little blue pin “…Interesting…”

“I’ll say” Mycroft murmured under his breath, his voice full of curious wonderment as he sipped at his cup of tea “Our dear sister’s genetics are not as faulty as I once thought”

There was a very tense pause that had all the hair on the back of John Watson’s neck stand on end as both the child and his flatmate’s body tense up with sudden pent up anger.

“Mr Holmes I please leave” The boy spat as he turned his head to glare at the older man venomously.

“Oh really Theodore” Mycroft narrowed his eyes only for Sherlock to snap his gaze around to him eyes flashing dangerously.

Red alert sirens went off at once in Johns head and he coughed loudly standing up to go to the front door which he held wide open.

“Yes Mycroft you really should.” He gave the man a meaningful almost pleading look which made him sigh heavily.

“And people wonder why I _love_ family reunions”

Mycroft rolled his eyes as he to his feet, straightening out his jacket and grabbing his umbrella from beside his chair.

_Ah Holmes sarcasm! How I’ve missed it!_

John grunted oh so _happily_ in his head but out loud he hissed.

“Mycroft go now or else I cannot guarantee you won’t be dead before you reach the front door”

But the eldest Holmes merely snorted.

“Very well then I guess I’ll be off. I must say this day has turned out to be more unexpected than I’d thought. I’ll be sure to keep an eye on any developments that come your way of course” He strode over to the threshold but then paused quickly pretending to settle his jacket as he muttered to John lowly so that the others could not hear “I’ll call about the details pertaining to the accommodation arrangements for Miss Monday and the…ahem, _children_. Until then…the _very best_ of luck to you John”

John grimaced waiting until he was sure Mycroft was at least halfway down the stairs before shutting the door.

“Well that was fun” Sherlock smiled sarcastically at the rooms other occupants only to find Theodore looking down at the floor. “…Or not…”

The boy then looked up at him eyes bright with unshed tears.

“Was something wrong with my mum Mr Sherlock?”

“Wrong?”

“People keep saying she’s weird, that Tabby and I are weird” he sniffled. “Is that why she left us here? Because there’s something wrong with us?”

Sherlock’s eyes bulged slightly in astonishment. He looked up at John and the doctor saw that his eyes, that were once so angry, were now full of panic, which only intensified as the boy began to choke and splutter tears streaming down his face.

“Say something” John mouthed gesticulating wildly.

“Say what?” Sherlock mouthed back but John just shrugged.

_And he’s the one who’s supposed to be better at these sentimental sort of things._

Sherlock grimaced before looking down at the crying child.

_Well here goes nothing!_

“Theodore…I don’t know why my sister wanted you here of all places…but I can definitely say for certain that it was not because she was ashamed of you”

“But-But Mr Holmes said-he said-”

“What _Mycroft Holmes_ said was wrong” Sherlock knelt down to be at eye level with the boy. “And despite what he says, he’s always been jealous of your mother.”

“Really?”

“Yes really” Sherlock nodded.

He looked up at John who gave him a reassuring nod with a small smile.

There was the thumping of feet as Mrs Hudson finally bustled out of the kitchen her apron dirty but her face happily flushed with the endorphins running through her system after indulging in her favourite pastime.

When she saw Theodore crying in front of Sherlock she quickly rushed over and pulled the boy in close to her in a tight hug.

“Oh you boys I leave you for two minutes and already this” she scowled at the two fully grown men who both looked rather taken aback.

“It was Mycroft, Mrs Hudson” John said quickly before Sherlock could open his mouth. “He might’ve said something that wasn’t too…um…nice about his mother”

“He what?!” the old woman looked horrified.

“Oh that brother of yours- he can be so cold-hearted sometimes! I do hope you sorted him out good and proper Sherlock”

“As well as one can do with an _iceman_ ” Sherlock nodded as Mrs Hudson now turned her attentions back to Theodore, fussing over him in grandmotherly fashion.

“Now don’t you worry about a thing Teddy Holmes. If anyone can sort out that mean old clot it would be your Uncle Sherlock”

John snorted with laughter at the identical looks of shock and bewilderment that flashed over both the young and older Holmes family members faces.

“UNCLE SHERLOCK?!”


	4. Monday's Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new clients introduce themselves...only they aren't what anyone expects

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Monday's child is fair of face,  
> Tuesday's child is full of grace,  
> Wednesday's child is full of woe,  
> Thursday's child has far to go,  
> Friday's child is loving and giving,  
> Saturday's child works hard for a living,  
> But the child who is born on the Sabbath Day  
> Is bonny and blithe and good and gay.   
> \- "Monday's Child" from A. E. Bray's "Traditions of Devonshire"

It was a good hour and a half before a man strode up the staircase of 221B Baker Street, suit crisp and neat, black umbrella in hand and a scowl over his face.

Mycroft Holmes was not someone that any normal person could surprise. However sometimes even he had to admit, no matter how much he scorned the idea, that it was bound to happen sometime because he was, unfortunately, only human.

He strode into the living room fast ignoring Mrs Hudson’s chirpy smile as she bustled around the kitchen stove cooking up what seemed to be a hurricane of food.

“Oh hello dear, how are you? Would you like some tea?”

“Yes Mrs Hudson, tea would be lovely.”

John, who was sitting in his chair typing on his laptop, looked up in surprise.

“Mycroft?! I thought you were coming this evening”

“I would’ve John. But circumstances being what they are” Mycroft rolled his eyes as the clangs and clattering of Mrs Hudson’s manoeuvres around the kitchen became a more hectic as she rushed to grab something out of the oven. “Prudency would serve better than tardiness”

“Sherlock’s upstairs…” John coughed pointing up at the ceiling for emphasis “Checking up on _them_ ”

“I know” Mycroft followed the doctor’s lead with eyes that were narrowed in…what was that? Smugness? Haughtiness?

“Of course you do”

John stared at the other man his eyes darting over his face. He’d now known both the Holmes brothers long enough to see that whatever was happening now was something that was worrying them both greatly.

But the good doctor was forced from his musings by a quirked eyebrow from his subject, who in turn had been studying him most intently.

“Sherlock never told you about what happened to our _dear_ little sister, did he?”

“…until this morning I didn’t even know either of you even _had_ a sister…” John gulped as the sharp blue eyes turned on him.

“I’m not surprised” Mycroft’s voice was pleasant and airy but there was an edge to it that would’ve made a spider’s skin crawl “Gwendolyn always was the more… _troubled_ one in the family-”

“Troubled?” John tilted his head to the side, but Mycroft ignored him.

“-but that might have been Sherlock’s fault. He always did love to spoil her when they were little…I’d say he was as fond of her as he could be of well…anyone…well…at least anyone human”

John’s eyebrows rose in astonishment.

“Well…She must’ve been fairly special for that to happen”

Mycroft fixed him with a swift sharp look.

“No. Actually she was fairly _stupid_ and _sentimental_.” Mycroft derisively spat out the last word like it was a disease. “She was always so much more sensitive to what others thought of her and whatever intelligence she was remotely lucky to inherit from our _dear_ mother.”

 “Wow…You must’ve been an absolute _joy_ to grow up with” John snorted rolling his eyes as Mrs Hudson came bustling into the room carrying a large tray with tea cups and saucers and a plate of biscuits.

“Here you go boys, nice and fresh.”

“Oh thank you Mrs Hudson. By the way what have you got cooking there?” John peered over into the kitchen which was full of pots and pans and ingredients scattered everywhere. It looked like she was cooking enough for a whole platoon.

“Oh just some spaghetti bolognaise and some treats, you know for the little ones. Why is something the matter?”

“No! No. it’s just…That’s a lot of food for just two nine year olds”

“Oh tish tosh John! They’re growing children and they’ll be very hungry when they wake up” Mrs Hudson smiled fondly up at the staircase. “Also that nice young lady needs to eat, what was her name again”

 “Young lady?”

Mycroft turned an imperious eye on John who flushed a little pink as Mrs Hudson gave him a knowing wink.

“Oh…um, Rebecca. Rebecca Monday”

He turned to look back at the staircase.

_God Sherlock what’s taking so long?_

* * *

Rebecca sighed with relief as she stepped back into the large bedroom, combing out her damp toffee hair with her fingers so that it fell in thick waves just between her shoulder blades. She hummed softly under her breath, quickly shutting the door before quickly shuffling over the wooden floor and over to three large suitcases lying at the foot of a large double spread bed.

She unbolted the locks of the middle handsome dark grey leather one, with deft fingers and opened it, doing her best to keep the large fluffy white towel around her naked body secure with her arms. She rolled her eyes and smirked as she examined the contents of the case.

All of her basic necessities were inside there, including her socks, underwear, jeans and of course, and she smiled widely at the sight of it, her blood red silk dressing gown. She let the towel drop from her as she scrambled to put on the item, which she delightedly wriggled into enjoying the feel of the soft fabric against her skin as she secured it shut with the sash.

There was the rustling of much coarser material and Rebecca quickly looked up.

_Poor dears…they really were tired…_

She watched with bittersweet fondness as the Theodore and Tabatha lay side by side under the covers of a large bed, their breaths heavy and steady as their minds wandered through the land of nod.

“Well they look rather comfortable”

Rebecca spun around. There standing in the doorway was the tall imposing figure of Sherlock Holmes. He’d gotten rid of his trench coat and scarf, leaving him only in a dark purple shirt and dark trousers, all of which when matched with his dark curly hair made his pale skin stand out starkly like marble over the angular features.

“Mr Holmes I did not hear you come in” Rebecca gulped holding the silk tight about her as she flushed a bright pink.

_Shit! Please tell me he didn’t see me naked?_

“Clearly” Sherlock quirked a brow his eyes flitting over her as she stood up slowly in her spot.

His eyes darted over the dressing gown. The cloth was expensive but minimal black floral print was tasteful and yet whilst it was well cared for the slightly worn out sash told him that it was worn quite often. But apart from that Sherlock’s mind was blank.

_Odd…._

Instead of the usual string of words that formed whenever he looked over a person, a string of question marks instead surrounded his initial scan of the woman in front of him.

He frowned a little. This hadn’t happened for a good long while. Not since that damned _woman_ had crossed him all those months ago…

Rebecca squirmed a little and folded her arms defensively over her body as the verdigris orbs narrowed on her. She felt an uncomfortable twinge in her chest. Barely twenty four hours ago a pair of eyes, with exactly the same colour but set in a different face, been crying in the rain.

The same…eyes…

Sherlock stiffened as Rebecca strode across the room towards him only to reach up and grab at his face. She quickly pushed back the dark curls that sat atop his brow and her green hazel eyes widened.

“Good God…” she breathed her hands stilling on his cheeks feeling the hard high cheekbones beneath the smooth skin. “They’re…you’re…”

She backed away from him her hands over her mouth in shock.

Sherlock sighed, quickly rubbing at his cheeks to rid himself of the odd tingling that covered the spots she’d touched.

Her hands were not completely soft. There were hard corns underneath the smooth skin, though from what they’d been contrived Sherlock could not guess.

“Gwendolyn didn’t tell you about me did she?” he murmured as Rebecca quickly strode back to the edge of the bed where she proceeded to sit by Theodore’s little body.

“No…she never really talked much about her family life…” she stroked a finger through the boys light golden locks.

 “You didn’t know she had kids?”

Sherlock shook his head “I didn’t even know if she was alive till you handed me that letter”

Rebecca quickly looked up to see Sherlock looking down on his nephew and niece with something akin to confusion and hurt flashing over his face.

It was uncanny how much they resembled each other and it took all her willpower to stop herself from going up and hugging him on autopilot.

But thankfully her thoughts were interrupted by his next question.

“Are they… _gifted_ …like her…”

“Gifted?” Rebecca tilted her head to the side. It took her a good moment but eventually it hit her. “Oh! Wait do you mean gifted as in that crazy brilliant genius scanning, observation thingy?”

Sherlock’s eyebrows rose his mind still stuck on one phrase. “Crazy brilliant genius scanning, observation **_thingy_**?”

“Uh…sorry that was pretty lame. It’s just that thing Gwen does…it’s so hard to name”

The corners of Sherlock’s mouth twitched upwards as the woman flushed pink to the roots of her toffee hair.

“But these two can do it?”

“Oh yeah!” Rebecca snorted. “Drives me up the wall and gets them into trouble but I guess its ok. It’s just part of who they are and I wouldn’t want them to change that for all the money in the world.”

Normally by now Sherlock would’ve scoffed or rolled his eyes at such an open declaration of sentiment. However he was just too surprised to do so now. The only people who had ever truly accepted his and his unique intellect so far had been his parents (but that was expected), John, Mrs Hudson, Molly Hooper from the morgue, Detective Inspector Lestrade and even to some degree Mycroft (even though he’d rarely admit it out loud). Apart from that not many people liked it and even if they did they rarely understood it.

Even his own sister, as far as he could recollect, had hated her gifts and the fact that she was allowing her children to be encouraged by another person to accept it was absolutely mind boggling even to his brain.

“Miss Monday-” he began but Rebecca looked up at him with a small smile on her face.

“Rebecca please.”

“Rebecca” Sherlock corrected himself quickly and her smile widened “What connection do you have to my sister?”

“To Gwen?” Rebecca bit her lip as she thought hard “We met inPlymouth, Devon nine years ago. I was staying with my parents…looking for a job. I had just graduated from University.”

“What were you studying?”

 “Criminal Law and Forensic Psychology double degree. I tried to get a job with law firms and the police but at that point in time the job market was really really…difficult…to get into. Eventually I had to settle for taking care of my parent’s old bookshop for them as they went off for a _romantic_ road trip together around Europe…”

“And Gwen?”

“I met her a week after they left. She was probably four months pregnant then but she was buying this really weird book, something about old fashioned horticulture just when the police came in. They said my parents had been involved in an accident whilst on the road at night between Paris and Versailles. Apparently my dad had been drinking before he got behind the wheel.”

“But you didn’t believe what they told you?” Sherlock raised a brow as he caught sight of her irritable grimace.

“Of course I didn’t. Mum and Dad were always so paranoid about that kind of stuff. When I was learning how to drive I wasn’t even allowed to touch the steering wheel without one of them badgering me about speeding or other crap like that. I was lucky that Gwen was so observant to notice that. She’d apparently been to the bookstore a couple of weeks before and met them. The looks on those idiots faces when she talked to them. Pff! I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone go that red! HA!” she snorted with laughter and the corners of Sherlock’s mouth twitched upwards, though he didn’t say anything.

Eventually she mastered herself and coughed. “Anyways she helped me dig up the truth about what happened and in return I let her stay and work with me. She needed a roof over her head and I needed...” she trailed off into silence.

“What?” Sherlock’s eyes narrowed slightly. "What did you need?"

Rebecca looked at him her green hazel eyes flickering over his features warily like a cat.

“Let’s just say some things are better left alone”

“Alone?”

“Yes Mr Holmes… _Alone_ ” she smirked, though there was something in her tone that told him she was dead serious.

“Fair enough…” Sherlock’s mouth said but on his face was a curious smirk as he examined the woman in front of him. Despite what she’d told him about her life so far he still was seeing blank spaces and question marks around her. Something was missing in the puzzle that was her.

He smirked.

This was going to be interesting.


	5. The Hunt Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two hunters join forces...what does the future hold...

A man with light blonde hair and blue eyes, wearing a sharp business suit and a striking red tie paced across the length of the small empty abandoned warehouse whistling between his teeth.

“That’s a nice tune” A voice called, the sound echoing off the cement pillars. It was distinctly masculine but also was rather high pitched and nasally. “Porgie and Bess?”

The blonde man who had been whistling stopped abruptly and turned his head round to calmly glower towards one of the pillars.

“You’re late…and I’m on a time limit”

“we all have a time limit Mr Toddhunter” the nasally voice chuckled “but most of us just don’t know when it will end…but I do”

The blonde man’s lips pursed but otherwise there was no other external display of discomfort. He quickly fiddled around in his pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes.

“My informant said…that you would help me solve a _problem_ ”

“Yeah well…your informant is pretty stupid” the voice snorted “You see Mr Toddhunter, my line of work is a highly _specialised_ field and I am the best in it. And being the best I have the privilege of only taking on cases that interest me…so I believe the correct statement is…I _could_ help you solve your problem…but I also _could not_ …if you catch my drift”

“And if I offered a fair enough price.” The blonde man grunted as he quickly flicked open a silver lighter which he used to light up the dog end he’d placed in his mouth. He took a deep inhale, the disgusting smell calming him down significantly enough for him to drawl.

“Would that _could_ turn into a yes?”

“…That depends on the price…What did you have in mind?”

The Blonde man smirked as he puffed out a large plume of smoke from his mouth.

“Something much more valuable than money”

“…Interesting” the voice sweetened slightly almost like a curious child’s would when asking about a topic they were not allowed to discuss “Does this by chance have anything to do with the envelope in your pocket? Or are you just happy to see me?”

The blonde man smirked with faint amusement.

“Sorry mate. Don’t swing that way. But yes it has everything to do with this”

He reached into his suit jacket’s inside pocket and produced a small white envelope just as someone stepped out from behind a large cement pillar to his left.

He was an average sized man, with dark brown hair and slight stubble and he too wore a business man’s suit with a plain blue tie. And yet despite how ordinary he looked the blonde couldn’t help the tiny shudder down his spine. There was something peculiar about the glint in that man’s eyes that just made his skin crawl.

Despite his misgivings he handed the white envelope over. The man took it smirking slightly at the tense look on his client’s face as he quickly tore through the seal and pulled out a few small square polaroids.

“I think you’ll find it adequate payment for the job I’m about to offer” the blonde man’s fingers twitched a little as the others brown eyes widened ever so slightly.

“Where did you get these?”

“I had my men take them a day or so ago. She was at Baker Street”

 “At 221B?”

 “You are familiar with that residence” the Blonde took another long drag of his cigarette.

“With its occupants yes…” The dark haired man looked up and a large leer splashed over his face before he held up one of the polaroids in front of his face “Oh Sherlock you are being naughty…stealing my dear Toffee from me…”

He tutted stroking his hand over the shiny printed square.

“She always did have such pretty hair…oh wait…hang on…now what have we here?”

His face became positively exuberant now.

“Oh now Christmas has come early… two mini Holmes’s?”

The Blonde man scowled. “more like half”

The dark haired man looked back up at him with a small frown, though it was quick to change into a wicked little smirk.

“Ahh…I see…and their mother?”

“…my wife… His sister… Gwendolyn Johanna Holmes”

The dark haired man rubbed the polaroid in his fingers his smirk widening into a fully blown smile.

“… Mr Anthony Toddhunter… I look forward to doing business with you…”

“As do I… Mr Moriarty…As do I…”


	6. Dissecting a Ladybird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sherlock tries to rectify a problem whilst Mycroft tries to make more for him

John watched as the twin children practically ploughed their way through Mrs Hudson’s food like farm tractors to a wheat field.

“You were travelling for how long?” he turned round to Rebecca as she took a ladylike bite of her food.

“Almost a day and a half” she dabbed at her mouth with a tissue before becoming startled by the sight of Tabby and Teddy looking up at her and holding up their clean plates.

“Please Becca can we have some more?” Teddy’s pale eyes went wide and round.

_Talk about a perfect Oliver Twist_

John smirked amusedly as he chewed on his mouthful of food.

 “Of course sweetheart” Rebecca smiled warmly, though Sherlock could see that she was a little bit surprised as she made to serve the plate “both of you asking for seconds? Mrs Hudson you are a miracle worker.”

“Oh it was nothing dear. Besides I’ve had lots of practice with this one” the old woman raised an eyebrow at Sherlock who scowled a little as he grumbled something under his breath that sounded like.

“Waste of time”

Before he trundled off to snag his violin from beside his chair.

He didn’t understand why but the hairs on the back of his neck were constantly on edge ever since Mycroft had left through that front door only a few hours ago.

Maybe it was the boredom. Or maybe it was just the tension from that morning but Sherlock could not shake off the feeling that something was going to happen. Something big. Well bigger than suddenly discovering his little sister was alive and that he was an uncle to two gifted twins.

_Uncle Sherlock…Mother would love that…_

His eyes widened as his fingers slipped on the bow in his hands and a rather shrill but uneven note screeched unpleasantly in his ears.

God if his parents ever knew their grandchildren were with him they’d never let him live in peace again!

* * *

Mycroft Holmes never liked family reunions. They were always such tedious and unnecessary affairs and, in his experiences, always led to someone getting angry or having to leave due to an argument. Rather like he’d how he had to do just that morning.

He looked over the three open yellow paper files in front of him and then to another open blue file on the edge of his desk. In it was the large photographs of a decimated shopfront with large fires and plumes of smoke billowing out of the front windows.

_Bookshop Explosion in Plymouth suspected to be a work of Arsons. Two women and two children confirmed dead from smoke inhalation and burns._

Mycroft snorted. Well this certainly made his job much easier. He looked down at two of the yellow files in which the pictures of a blonde haired boy and a brown haired girl smiled up at him from a pair of school portraits.

The children wouldn’t be a problem to relocate at the end of the day. Unlike adults they didn’t have so many credentials to be forged, especially since they were still in elementary school.

But their guardian though…

The telephone on his desk rung shrilly and he sighed heavily as he picked it up.

“Mycroft Holmes” but no sooner had the last syllable left his mouth he rolled his eyes, almost as if it were exhausting just thinking about the next sentence. “Oh hello _Mummy_. Yes I’m doing fine. What is it that you want?”

Mycroft’s eyes narrowed as they wandered down to the yellow personnel file closest to him, where a small passport photograph of a woman with toffee blonde wavy blonde hair stared up at pokerfaced him with green hazel eyes.

Her records were pretty impressive…for an ordinary person that was. She’d excelled in both primary and secondary school academics, especially English and History, and had fairly high standing in her tertiary education at Plymouth University with a double degree in Criminal Law and Forensic Psychology.

And yet surprisingly following her graduation she had not been employed in either area of interest. Instead she’d been forced to shunt herself behind the counter of a bookstore for nearly ten years.

Mycroft knew the job market these days in England was somewhat difficult but even then…to be rejected for every single job application despite her qualifications…Something just didn’t add up…

And not just add up.

There was something strange about this woman…Even Sherlock for all his dithering about could sense it.

No. Not sense it. It was slapping him in the face and taunting him.

Mycroft smirked as he remembered the expression on his little brother’s face every time he’d set eyes upon his new client. So intense, so completely befuddled.

“ _Mycroft! Mycroft are you listening to me_ ” his mother’s voice called through the receiver held away from him.

He rolled his eyes and put the phone back up to his ear.

“Yes I was. Yes Sherlock is fine too. Yes, yes he’s still running around with his friend Dr Watson. Why aren’t you seeing any girlfriends or boyfriends yet? You tell me? No mummy I am not being sarcastic. I beg your pardon? No. Mummy I hardly see what I have to do with getting Sherlock to settle down. I may have a lot of contacts but it’s not like I can just click my fingers make him a little happy family with grandchildren for you and father out of thin… air…”

His voice fell away as he looked back down at the three files before him.

“Or…maybe I can…”

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards as he looked over all the paper over his desk.

Oh who was he kidding? This was going to be downright easy.

* * *

“Wake up”

Rebecca grunted and turned over in the sheets as a large hand shook her shoulder

“Rebecca you have to wake up now”

She opened her eye blearily and looked up into a familiar face.

“Gwenny seriously do you have any idea what time it is?” she yawned looking outside. Even though it was mostly dark in the room she could still see the window in a blur. It was still dark outside and she wondered if any time had passed since she’d settled down.

“It’s three thirty in the morning…and I am not Gwendolyn.”

Rebecca blinked. What she’d once thought had been her friends’ blurry face slowly transformed into the angular sharp clean lines of a man’s face. When Sherlock saw her eyes open enough for her not to go back to sleep he pulled away.

“Right sorry…” she pinched the bridge of her nose and yawned again “Now what is it that you need Mr Holmes?”

“Well for one thing you can stop calling me Mr Holmes” Sherlock muttered “and also…you said to wake you up only if something urgent came about”

“And what happened that you need to wake me up in the middle of the night?” she swung her legs over the side of the bed and Sherlock grimaced when he still saw question marks around her plain white T-shirt and little black shorts.

He quickly glanced in the mirror at his own reflection. He could see he was still clothed in his blue pyjamas, that despite his mental alertness his body was starting to show signs of fatigue and that Mrs Hudson had clearly not hung out his blue dressing gown because there were still creases from the clothes dryer, and also that his nails were still mostly clean because he’d been going cold turkey on actual cigarettes for more than a month now.

He turned back to look at Rebecca who was glowering sleepily up at him, annoyed by his silence to her question.

????

Just what was wrong with his brain? It was processing emotional data fine but, why wasn’t it picking up personal data from her or her clothes like it would anyone else?

_This is just insanity! How do stupid people live like this?_

Sherlock held out an envelope towards her, with her name written in plain all caps handwriting. It was opened.

“You read my mail?” she raised her eyebrows as she reached inside the torn paper to find its contents.

“Barely an hour ago a man pushed this through the letter slot in the front door. A man who clearly was acting like he didn’t want to be seen” Sherlock’s eyes hardened as she quickly pulled out a folded piece of paper.

She opened it up quickly and her eyes widened with shock.

It was a page from an old book, that much was plain as the writing and fleur de lis border was neatly printed out and the paper was yellowing from age.

**_Ladybird, ladybird,_ **

**_Fly away home,_ **

**_Your house is on fire,_ **

**_Your children will burn._ **

“Ladybird…isn’t that…Mother Goose?” she murmured as she quickly turned the page over. But nothing was there. No writing… not anything…just a page of paper...

 “I already checked for fingerprints, but there aren’t any.”

Rebecca looked up and was astonished to find that Sherlock was standing over, eyes narrowed and his head tilted curiously to one side. It was rather disconcerting; almost like she was a mouse was being cornered by a great big cat.

“Was there anyone else you might have told about your coming here?” he rumbled.

“No”

“Are you sure?”

Two sets of glaring verdigris and green hazel orbs both met in intense silence.

“Yes I’m sure! What do you take me for an idiot?” she growled through gritted teeth as determinedly she stood up to gain some kind of level with him. However he was too tall and the top of her head barely scraped just above his chin. She had to crane her head up to look at him in the eyes.

Meanwhile Sherlock was pretty stumped as to what to do. The look she was wearing was not unlike the one John so often wore when he was pissed off at him, except when it flashed across her features it was less threatening. True her eyes were flashing like lightning, but her lips were slightly softer and her brow smoother less furrowed, even though the gentle arches still were crinkled ever so slightly.

Rebecca tensed as she caught sight of Sherlock’s pupils dilating ever so slightly. She knew that look all too well. She’d been on too many dates both successful and unsuccessful to not be aware of its meaning. And yet there was something about the way it looked on the man in front of her that made her body tingle and despite herself a shudder ran down her spine.

“I don’t know…”

His voice had gone so low that had it not been so silent she would’ve thought it a mere hum in the background.

“What?”

“I don’t know”

Sherlock felt irritated when his eyes disobeyed his brains orders and flickered over her hips which tilted slightly as she shifted weight onto her other foot.

He almost cursed aloud as in the depths of his mind palace a voice that was clearly Mycroft’s sneered:

“ _Experiencing some technical difficulties with your body Little Brother?_ ”

Rebecca bit her lip worriedly as she saw his Adams apple bob ever so slightly as he finally stepped away from her.

“I’m sorry…for disturbing you…” he mumbled before quickly snatching the envelope and the page from Rebecca’s hand and striding out of the room.

“Wait Sherlock-”

 But he’d already shut the door behind him with a snap.

Rebecca stared at the door stock still.

_Ok… what the hell?_

* * *

John heard the door snap from somewhere downstairs and jerked up from his spot on the mattress set in the living room floor.

He quickly looked at his watch that lay beside him, teetering on the edge of a sheet.

“Oh great” he huffed as his head flumped back into a pillow

It had only been an hour since they’d seen that stranger deliver that letter. Only one bloody hour!

“You told her then” he groaned as he heard the familiar shuffling of his flatmates’ slipper clad feet pass him on their way to the couch.

But there was no answer.

John frowned and turned over, just in time to see Sherlock fall backwards into the couch in a heap of blue, his brown curls flying everywhere over his face.

 “Did something happen?”

“No”

“Will I finally be able to go to sleep?”

“…if you want to…yes” Sherlock bristled uncomfortably.

John frowned but nonetheless resettled the covers over himself.

He’d just gotten round to closing his eyes when he heard Sherlock mutter.

“I can’t read her”

The doctor’s eyes snapped open and he turned his head back to his flatmate, eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

“…ok…read who exactly?”

“Rebecca Monday! John, I can’t read her.” Sherlock turned over onto his back to glower up at the ceiling.

“Sherlock” John sighed, half with exasperation half with amusement. “Maybe you’re just tired and you’re reading her the wrong way-”

“I am not! I’m reading her exactly how I read everyone else” the detective snapped irritably. “And every time I try to I cannot see anything! Just these…question marks!”

“Yeah well, maybe your… operating system is incompatible with her file format” John shrugged.

Ok not the best analogy he could come up with but it was the middle of the night and he was exhausted. But Sherlock didn’t seem to hear him as he continued to rant.

“But it shouldn’t be John! I trained my mind and my brain to overcome such issues long ago. I’ve tried looking into my mind palace! I’ve tried analysing other people’s reactions, her emotions, I even had her describe her life story to me but still I cannot get ANYTHING!” he ran a hand down the length of his face.

“Welcome to my world” John smirked grimly.

 “It’s hell! How on Earth do you live with it?” Sherlock groaned.

“Because it’s normal” John shrugged. “But then again it can be pretty annoying when you’re attracted to a woman”

“A ridiculous notion” Sherlock scoffed.

John snorted and Sherlock’s eyes flashed.

“What?”

“well… you have been staring at her a lot since she and the kids came in”

“I have been trying to read her”

“uh huh” John’s mouth twitched upwards in a sly smile as Sherlock snapped his head to look at him with narrowed eyes.

“I am _not_ attracted to her!”

“I never said you were”

“You were implying it”

“Fine, fine you win I was implying it” John sighed as Sherlock turned his head back to look up at the ceiling. But then he just couldn’t resist “but if you really weren’t attracted to her you wouldn’t be in such denial about it”

“I’m not in deni-”

“denying it again only makes it worse!”

There was a moment of silence in which John smirked in victory as Sherlock scowled darkly before abruptly clamping his mouth shut and turning over on the couch so that his back was facing his friend.

“…piss off”

John’s grin widened.

“Good night to you too Sherlock.”

* * *

When Rebecca woke up next it was seven o clock in the morning. The sun was shining outside the window and it was by the familiar groaning and shaking from both the twins that she was roused from her slumber.

“Come on Aunty wake up! Wake up! We gotta go eat!”

“Ok! Ok! You two go and start I’ll come down soon” She swatted both children away playfully and they scarpered off out the door.

She smiled warmly as she bustled off to her trunk and pulled out some fresh clothes and a pair of shoes, before heading off to the bathroom to wash up.

She quickly changed in there as well, though her shoulder muscles hurt as she lifted her arms up to fit them through the sleeves of her top. Ever since Sherlock and her little…meeting last night she’d gone to sleep in a rather stiff position on her back, much to her cost.

“Good morning” she smiled brightly to the room at large as she walked in fully dressed into the kitchen.

Tabby and Teddy were sitting side by side at one end of the kitchen table tucking into two large bowls of porridge. On the other end of the table John looked up from behind his morning newspaper.

“Oh Good Morning Rebecca. Sleep well?”

“Like a baby, and you?”

“It was great…surprisingly” John glanced quickly at Sherlock, who was currently hidden behind another newspaper.

“Ahem Sherlock” he coughed

Sensing both pairs of eyes on him the detective folded half the newspaper down and glowered.

“What?”

The doctor jerked his head towards Rebecca as she quickly planted kisses onto the top of both the children’s heads, both of them not noticing as they were too busy shovelling food into their mouths.

Sherlock’s eyebrows rose up into his curls. She was a far cry from the desperate woman he’d found on his doorstep. She was wearing a soft white chiffon blouse with a little neck bow tucked into a knee length deep wine red skirt, with a large black belt around her waist. Her wavy hair was no longer oily and stringy but soft and glistening and loose. It fell over her shoulders, back and around her face save for the front sweep which was held up by a couple of plain black bobby pins. She wasn’t wearing much makeup anymore as after a good night’s sleep her skin finally had a fully healthy glow especially under her eyes though there was a thin layer red lipstick.

He heard a clack and quickly leaned down for a moment to check.

Simple plain black pump heels.

John coughed pointedly and Sherlock quickly snapped back up to hide himself behind his newspaper.

“You’re looking well rested” he clipped trying his best to ignore Teddy and Tabby’s giggles across from him.

“So are you” Rebecca quirked an eyebrow at the two children as she began to serve herself cereal from the box. “Anything new turn up?”

“No not yet” Sherlock answered tersely just as she made to sit down opposite him.

There was a loud shrill ringing from downstairs and a couple of clangs as Mrs Hudson promptly ran out her flat and up to the door. They heard her bustling and talking with someone in the sort of way that told everyone that she was downright annoyed.

Minutes later the front door shut and they heard her footsteps coming up the stairs, followed by another set behind her.

“So…dear brother mine has decided to grace us with his presence again” Sherlock stated with hollow enthusiasm as his brother strode into the kitchen umbrella in one hand and a file in another whilst four other men in black suits followed. Two of them stayed by the doorway whilst the third and fourth followed Mycroft carrying a large box between them, which they settled down on the floor of the living room.

“What is that?” Tabatha asked curiously tilting her head.

“Just some supplies to get you, your aunt and your brother started” Mycroft spared a cold look at his niece and nephew, who was currently glaring venomously at him again, before striding up to Rebecca who stood up quickly as she was handed a large green binder that was filled to the brim with paper files.

Rebecca grimaced before turning to the twins who looked up at her in confusion.

“If you’re finished why don’t you two go into the living room and watch some TV?”

“Ok” they both nodded quickly and darted off into the living room, brushing a little by Mycroft who quickly dusted off his suit as soon as they made contact with it.

He quickly coughed softly and turned back to Rebecca.

“I have your new identities all sorted out and I shall get my men to start working on renovating and refurbishing 221C downstairs this afternoon. The school shall be calling the your new phone which is in the box with all your new effects.” his eyes narrowed as she opened her mouth “I suggest you quickly transfer all your data across all machines you use before discarding them _permanently_ ”

“I…I understand…” she nodded, but Mycroft merely steamrolled over her.

“On that note you have an education in Forensic Psychology am I correct?”

“At the risk of being very rude Mr Holmes” Rebecca folded her arms “but cut out the polite rubbish! We both know that you’ve done your homework and arrogance is not a look that suits you”

There was a silence as Sherlock looked at the scene in fascination. It wasn’t often that someone outside of the Holmes family ever stood up to Mycroft. The only one who’d successfully been able to do that so far had been John and that in itself was impressive.

 Mycroft raised his eyebrows coldly as he assessed the woman with almost reluctant approval.

“Very well then I’ll get right to the point. You did train in Forensic Psychology during your years at Plymouth University, and following your graduation you applied for jobs in Consultancy to Law Enforcement and criminal Psychological Evaluation, for which you showed high aptitude despite the fact you were never hired because not only was the job market too tough at the time but also the stupid employers wanted someone who did not merely have …just another pretty face with a big mouth as stated by one policewoman…”

“Sally Donovan” Rebecca’s hands balled into fists by her sides as John and Sherlock frowned at each other.

“Sally Donovan? As in _Sargent_ Sally Donovan?”

Rebecca’s head snapped over to him eyes narrowed.

“You know her?”

“Yeah she works with Lestrade’s team down at Scotland Yard. We sometimes help them with cases” John explained carefully. “Why? how do you know her?”

“She used to be a constable in the police station close to the bookshop before she was transferred six years ago and as you heard she was the one who interviewed me for a job…only it didn’t go so well. I might have… _accidently_ pointed out some of her more…looser morals when evaluating her psychology report as a test run”

“She must have loved that” Sherlock snorted with amusement.

“Oh yes indeed, she was over the moon” Rebecca rolled her eyes. “almost accused me of sleeping with my professors to get my marks the biatch!”

“And did you?” Mycroft asked genuinely interested. John sighed in exasperation as the blonde woman’s face turned positively incensed. God those two brothers really sometimes had no tact.

But Sherlock quickly cleared his throat.

“Sargent Donovan can be quite a jealous cat when she wants to be Mycroft. She feels especially threatened when it comes to people that excel in areas that she lacks, such as intelligence…and appearance”

John’s teacup that had been on the way to his lips stilled in mid-air.

_Did Sherlock just say …what I think he said…_

The corners of Mycroft’s mouth twitched upwards as he looked upon his younger brother and then quickly glanced at the files in Rebecca’s hands.

_Oh this is just going to be fantastic…_

But he quickly wiped his expression back to a blank slate as he addressed the woman in front of him.

“We seem to have gotten pretty far off topic Miss Monday, so if you wouldn’t mind me asking. How would you feel about working for me?”

“You?”

“Yes”

She narrowed her eyes at him shrewdly.

“…four questions”

“If you must” Mycroft sighed with exasperation.

“First off what would my pay be?”

“More than substantial to maintain a relatively comfortable lifestyle with two growing children”

“My hours?”

“Extremely Flexible. You are free to work from home, though if I call you must be answerable to your phone or email”

“Risks?”

“Depends on the jobs I assign”

“Which are?”

At this Mycroft smiled.

“Well for starters you would be assessing and evaluating the psychological profiles of certain individuals we the government deem important.”

“And?” Rebecca prompted teeth gritting.

“And keeping an eye on my brother. What say you Sherlock?” Blue turned on verdigris which narrowed at him scathingly “Are you alright to have another little friend follow you on your investigations?”

“We aren’t friends…” He snapped “as long as she doesn’t get in the way of anything I don’t care what she does”

“Sherlock” John hissed kicking his friend’s shin.

“What? Oh…” Sherlock’s voice fell away slightly… “Timing?” he hurriedly turned to look at Rebecca.

However surprisingly on her face…was a smirk.

“Seriously you and Gwen are like clones of each other!” she shook her head and chuckled softly. “That’s exactly what she said to me when we first met”

Sherlock’s expression brightened ever so slightly but Mycroft scowled irritably.

“Enough with these tangents! Do you accept the job or not?”

Rebecca’s chuckles stopped abruptly.

“I do…but on one condition” she strode right up so that she was toe to toe with the taller man and looked up, green hazel eyes blazing “if you visit again you will not bad talk about Gwendolyn in front of Tabatha and Theodore ever again. Are we clear?”

“…as crystal Miss Monday” Mycroft glared down at her as she stepped away.

She took the binder he’d given her into her hands again and began to flick through it.

“So Tabby and Teddy are going to be Holmes’s then?” she raised her eyebrows, but then she froze.

“You must admit…” Mycroft smirked as she looked up at him with shock. “It is a rather interesting notion”

“Er…Mycroft what are you-?” John gulped as Rebecca quickly walked around him to shove the binder in front of Sherlock’s face.

The detective’s eyes widened for a full moment before he growled turning onto his brother, who at once strode quickly to the front door

 “And before I forget our dear parents will be coming around this afternoon to see the…children. So I suggest you tidy up the place quickly. You do know how finicky Mummy gets about cleanliness”

“Mycroft” Sherlock growled but his brother was already over the threshold of the doorway.

 “Come on Gentlemen. Our work here is done.” he called to the men that had accompanied him quickly down the stairs. “happy Nuptials

“Mycroft get back here!” Sherlock hissed as he dashed out the room and to the top of the stairs.

But his brother had already left the building, the door shutting with a snap.

 “Sherlock what’s wrong? what the hell did he mean by nuptials?” John cried out, hoping against hope that the television was loud enough to mask the offensive string of words that hissed from his flatmates mouth like steam from a pressure cooker.

“See for yourself”

There was a heavy thump as Rebecca dropped the offending binder onto the table, open, and slid it over and across to him. She was looking absolutely livid.

John looked down.

There down on the page below was an official looking slip of green paper at the bottom of which was written.

_“This marriage was solemnised between us: William Sherlock Scott Holmes and Genevieve Rebecca Isobel Monday”_

John burst out laughing.

_Mycroft you goddamn sneaky sod!_

If ever the elder Holmes brother came around to Baker Street ever again, he was going to be killed for sure!


	7. Something Wicked This Way Comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moriarty is why we can't have nice things...

"So I went back to Baker Street and Sherlock asked me to send a text message. He'd found her suitcase and discovered that the victim's phone was missing. He knew the killer would have it, so there I was, texting a serial killer."

John didn't know whether to grin with amusement or sigh with exasperation as both the young boy and girl in front of him listened with rapt attention.

Mycroft had left an hour ago and they had persuaded John to keep an easily bored Teddy and Tabby busy by reading the blog about his and Sherlock's cases.

"That should keep them busy" The detective rolled his eyes as he quickly ushered Rebecca towards his room.

"Do you mind if I?" she gestured to the bed.

"No not at all" Sherlock raised his eyebrows as he leant on the wall opposite her.

"So…we're married now…"

Rebecca couldn't help but flush a bright pink as he fixed her in his piercing stare like how he'd done the night before.

"Yes."

"…any idea why your brother would do that"

"It's his revenge for kicking him out yesterday"

"Has he always been so childish?"

Sherlock smirked.

"Yes. Though to be fair Gwen and I used to pull a lot of tricks on him when we were younger"

"Did any of those tricks work?"

"Oh yes." Sherlock shrugged though his eyes were glinting with wicked malicious glee. "Gwen was a rather remarkable accomplice. We even made him wet his pants once"

"Ah…So that's why you're so good with solving crimes?" Rebecca quirked an amused eyebrow at him

"Takes a criminal to know a criminal" Sherlock smirked.

They both chuckled, Rebecca hiccupping slihglyt as she tried to compose herself.

"I can't believe she never told me about you two. I mean I knew she had brothers but, she never said what you were like"

"And what do you think we're like so far?" he tilted his head to the side curiously.

"Smart as all hell" She smirked "but at the same time complete and utter childish idiots"

A small smile graced his features.

"I guess I've heard worse."

Rebecca stood up, putting her hands behind her back. "So what do you think I'm like? And don't beat around the bush"

"I won't" he smirked though internally he was surprised.

Usually it was just "can you help me Mr Holmes?" "Or can you solve this case for me Mr Holmes" or John and Lestrade's pleas of "Sherlock will you take us through this one again?"

And yet up till now no one had ever offered themselves to be deduced so openly.

Sherlock stared long and hard at her his smirk giving way to a frown as his eyes scanned her for the umpteenth time since she'd arrived.

Up, down, up, down, left, right, right left.

_It must be possible, must be staring me in the face_

Blouse, shoes, skirt, hair, hair pins, make up.

_"maybe you're not reading her right?"_

John's voice from the night before echoed inside his head.

Yes… but how would John read a woman?

And at once Sherlock's eyes seemed to wander outside of his control. Her body wasn't toned much but it was relatively healthy and correct for her height and she had distinctive pear shape curves.

 _"Would you like my advice brother mine?"_ the mind palace Mycroft scoffed derisively.

_No I would not now get out Mycroft I've had enough of you today both in and out of my head!_

_"stay away from her and keep your nose clean."_

Nose…

His eyes widened.

"Oh…"

"um…Sherlock" Rebecca gulped as Sherlock strode towards her fast. She squeaked in alarm as he quickly grabbed both her arms and pinned them by her sides, leaning his head down.

He shut his eyes as his nose came close enough to the crook of her neck.

He inhaled deeply and at once data spread through his brain.

_Orange, mandarin, Tunisian curacao, morning rose, Italian jasmine, ylang-ylang, mimosa, florentine iris, vanilla, white musk, opoponax._

"Perfume." He whispered deeply his breath fluttering against her skin "…ingredients are expensive but well balanced…so it's one of the top brands. Most likely a Chanel, in fact it is Chanel Madmoiselle. And how do I know that because I've smelt it before whilst working on a case where it was standing on a woman's dressing table. How do I know it's the same, because it has a distinctive citrusy top note, a floral heart note and a musky vanilla base note. Of course owning a small bookstore you could not afford to buy this for yourself so it was a gift. Definitely from someone close to you. Not your parents because they are dead and because you being their only daughter they would probably give you something of more sentimental value. So a close friend then. Probably someone who knows your shopping habits and what suits you…and since we both know you have only one really close friend it is safe for me to deduce that Gwendolyn was the one who bought it for you."

The air seemed to still around them as Sherlock craned his head up to whisper against her ear, vaguely noticing the flush of her skin and the flutter of her pulse against his fingers.

"Am I wrong?"

"Yes…you are…"

Sherlock's teeth gritted as his grip tightened hard on her wrists.

"How?"

"I have…I have an older sister"

"Sister?"

"…yes she's five years older than me…she moved out when she was eighteen. I don't know much about what she does but I still hear from her time to time. She sent me the perfume for my birthday last year."

Rebecca shuddered as he groaned softly with frustration into her ear, the timbre of his voice as low as the deepest note on a double bass.

"Sister…There's always something" he hissed, pulling his head back just as the door to his room opened and John poked his head through.

"Uh Sherlock your parents are…whoa…" the doctor's eyes widened as he caught sight of the detective's tall form towering almost predatorily over the woman in front of him as he pinned her arms too her side, her face flushed and her breathing slightly faster than what was normal.

"Do you two…need a moment?" John gulped.

"no' Sherlock instantly he let go of Rebecca. They both quickly stepped away from each other, both suddenly very intent on resettling their shirt sleeves.

"Are you su-"

"Yes!" they both snapped.

John put both his hands up in surrender.

"Alright! Alright! But seriously Sherlock do you need a moment to you know…do any last minute grooming. You're parents called and you're mother's really anxious to see you"

"Of course she is" Sherlock rolled his eyes before turning to Rebecca whose face had paled considerably "Are you ready?"

"Half a moment" Rebecca nodded as she quickly began to brushing out the ends of her toffee hair haphazardly, with her fingers.

"All done" she sighed and was about to walk towards the door when Sherlock reached out to her.

"Wait"

He carefully tucked one stray lock behind her ear.

"There…good as new"

"…thank you" she blushed a little pink again and gave him a small smile.

John coughed loudly.

"Ahem! In laws…coming any minute now"

"Right" they both nodded, Sherlock gesturing for Rebecca to walk ahead of him through the door in gentlemanly fashion.

She accepted and quickly made her way past John smiling and nodding at him as she passed down the stairs.

"I'll just get the twins ready. Meet you in the living room"

When she was gone from sight John turned back to his flatmate with raised eyebrows.

"Shut up" Sherlock snapped as he came down the door.

"I didn't say anything"

"You were thinking"

"So what if I was?" John folded his arms smirking.

"Contrary to what your sentimental normal, hormonally driven brain fantasises John, nothing happened between us. I was just making a deduction when you walked in. Nothing more nothing less"

"And did you find out anything?"

"Nothing an ordinary man couldn't figure out. She has a sister and she wears an expensive perfume as a gift."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and inhaled deeply remembering the scent he'd smelt on her. At least he'd gotten that tid bit right.

John shook his head with exasperated fondness. "You're enjoying it aren't you?"

"What?"

"This! Chasing her around! Trying to figure her out like she's one of your really hard cases"

"I will admit it has been quite a stimulating mental challenge" Sherlock folded his arms "No one, not even _that_ _woman_ has eluded mine or my brother's deductions for this long"

"What so Mycroft can't read her either?" John's eyebrows rose in astonishment.

"…I don't think so…at least not completely." Sherlock grumbled "and if he can he's obviously keeping me in the dark to spite me"

"Why?"

"Because that's just what he does. That and she's Gwendolyn's friend. He'll look out for her because he has a duty towards the family name and reputation but otherwise he won't want a bar of her"

Sherlock's hands tightened into fists by his sides.

"Sherlock…" John took a deep breath before continuing, trying to sound braver than he felt "If you don't mind me asking…what happened with the three of you? Why does Mycroft hate Gwendolyn so much?"

"I don't know." Sherlock admitted quietly suddenly seeming to be very interested in the pattern of the wallpaper around them "You'll have to ask him that yourself. Though, knowing him, it will probably be something tedious"

John opened his mouth to speak but at that precise moment Mrs Hudson decided to thunder up the stairs towards them.

"You boys, what are you doing up here? Have you been talking all this time?" she tutted before turning to Sherlock her face a mask of disappointment "and you young man what is with you? Leaving that lovely new wife of yours downstairs all alone-" Sherlock he took an exaggerated deep withering sigh.

"-to meet your parents. The least you could do is introduce them to each other"

"Very well! Very well! I'll come down. John come on you heard the lady; we must save the damsel in distress from the clutches of doom before it is too late." He quickly rushed down the steps and john followed rolling his eyes in exasperation.

"Clutches of doom? And he calls me dramatic"

* * *

It was evening and Rebecca was now standing inside the kitchen alongside a woman with curly white hair and a face that was elderly but familiar to her.

Despite her initial terror at meeting them the Holmes' sibling's parents were quite…normal…nice folk.

Mrs Holmes especially was remarkably warm hearted as she offered to help Rebecca cook dinner, despite the younger woman's polite protests.

"nonsense" she'd said "what kind of family would we be if we didn't help each other out?"

So now here they both were in the kitchen sitting at the table, each with a cup of tea in their hands and sitting in a relaxed silence, at least until:

"My dear eldest son told me about your…current situation"

Rebecca tensed.

"Oh?"

"Well most of it. But anyway" Mrs Holmes waved off casually "You're family owned a bookshop? Correct?"

"Yes...the Raven's Writing Desk it was called" Rebecca took a sip nervously watching as the older woman leaned back in her chair smiling widley.

"The writing desk? Ah! So you're Genevieve Monday's daughter! I thought you sounded familiar"

"You talked to my mother?"

"Only a few times," Mrs Holmes took a sip of her tea "Years and years ago it was. We often ordered books from your parents for the Gwendolyn and Sherlock when they were at school"

"Oh…that explains it then…" Rebecca's eyes widened in astonishment.

"Pardon?"

"No, don't mind me it's nothing really, umm…" Rebecca mumbled "it's just that when I first met Gwendolyn she told me she'd been looking for the shop for a very long while…now I know why"

"She always did love to get herself lost in books" Mrs Holmes smiled sadly "more so than Sherlock. I think it was an escape for her."

"With brothers like Sherlock and Mycroft I can just imagine" Rebecca snorted but then paused as she caught sight of Mrs Holmes's look of astonishment "sorry that was rude of me."

"No…no you are right." The older woman shook her head "She was always such a quiet mysterious child and both my boys did tend to cast rather long shadows over her, especially Mycroft."

"So I've heard"

"Yes well Mycroft was always a little more jealous. You see my husband and I love all our children but Gwen was…well she was the only girl and our littlest so we might've tended to dote on her a little more."

"And how about Sherlock? What was his reaction?" Rebecca frowned and Mrs Holmes chuckled.

"Oh Sherlock! He was the one who spoiled her the most out of all of us! I swear if anyone was able to get Gwen to get her nose out of her books he'd be the one. If ever she was sick, he'd pretend he was sick too just to stay behind to look after her. If ever she fell and scraped her knee, he was prepared with a band-aid. If she wanted to go out to some place he'd drive her. If she was hungry he'd treat her to a full lunch at a nice café and if guys tried to hit on her he'd hit them."

"Wow! Seriously?" Rebecca glanced with her wide eyes towards the direction of the living room where Sherlock was sitting with his father, the twins and John all playing monopoly. He currently had the top hat as his piece. "All that for her?"

"And more" Mrs Holmes nodded "I swear sometimes the two of them were just twins born at separate times, they were so inseparable."

"Yeah I know what you mean" Rebecca watched as she caught sight of the two nine year olds that she was currently looking after, sitting on the floor as they made a move with their little dog piece up onto a chance square, which gained them a few notes of fake money from the banker, Mr Holmes.

Mrs Holmes turned to look at her "you really love them a lot don't you?"

"As if they were my own" Rebecca nodded. "I was there by Gwen's side when they were born; I've seen their first steps and heard their first words, held them, bathed them, fed them, picked them up from school. Fought and cried with them."

"Parenthood. It really is a wonderful thing isn't it?" smiled warmly at the young woman in front of her.

"yes…yes it is"

"And on that note"

The members of the monopoly game all looked up as a great big spluttering sound filled the air accompanied by loud feminine laughs as Rebecca promptly choked on her tea.

"Hey is everything ok in there?" Mr Holmes called to his wife.

"Oh it's quite alright honey" Mrs Holmes smirked back catching her son's eye "I was just wondering when our dear Shirly was going to give us some grandchildren"

Despite his attempt to take a deep calming breath Sherlock's face turned as red as a beetroot as he pinched his nose and groaned.

"Mother! How many times will I have to tell you that's never going to happen. Besides Gwenny has already given you two. Isn't that enough to satisfy you?"

John's eyebrows rose in astonishment as the word "Gwenny" passed through his friend's lips. That was the first time he'd ever heard Sherlock use such an affectionate nickname for anyone ever before.

"But Sherlock didn't I always say I wanted at least six or nine between the three of you?"

"Well then get Mycroft to go and reproduce! I'm sure he'd be happy to manufacture his own mini clone army for himself. Might make his plans for world domination run a lot faster"

The twins and John all snorted with laughter as his father shook his head in amused exasperation.

"Sherlock don't be so dramatic"

"What it's true! That's what his lifelong ambition has always been hasn't it?" Sherlock smirked only for it to vanish as his mother called back in mock hurt.

"But you're already married"

"Mycroft forged the signatures!"

"But you're such a good match. And with both your genetics, I'm sure you and Rebecca would produce the most beautiful of children"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and stood up so that he could glare over the chairs at the old woman who was sitting, smirking smugly at him as she sipped at her cup of tea as Teddy and Tabby both began to sing loudly from behind him.

"Uncle Sherlock and Becca sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G! first comes kissing then come's marriage, then comes uncle Sherlock pushing a baby carriage!"

Sherlock groaned in aggravation as Rebecca turned a brilliant shade of ruby.

_That's it! Mycroft if I ever see you again you are so dead!_

John was now laughing so hard that he almost missed the small ping as Sherlock's mobile received a call.

He quickly picked it up and checked it he stopped laughing at once.

"Sherlock!" he called.

"WHAT?!" Sherlock growled angrily as his family all chuckled and giggled around him.

John held out the phone and he snatched it quickly, pressing the call button.

"Hello?'

" _Hello Sherlock…did you miss me? I hear you have a couple of tiny Holmes's running around your home._ "

Sherlock froze. That nasally high voice…

"Moriarty" he murmured softly.

There was a clicking sound on the other end of the receiver as Moriarty whined mockingly

" _Oh Uncle Sherlock, why are you being so mean today? I just called to check up on you and the dear doctor. He is still with you isn't he. of course he is. Such a loyal pet_."

"Who's Moriarty?" Teddy tilted his head to the side before John could stop him.

The doctor quickly clamped a hand down at once over Teddy's mouth before he could finish. Following his lead Mr Holmes quietly took the boy and his sister by the shoulders and steered them into the kitchen so that they were away from the view of the living room window.

" _Was that one of them now. Oh how cute. Was it the boy? Is it true he looks just like a mini version of you? And what about the girl? I'll bet she looks just like her mother._ "

Sherlock's body became so tense it looked like he was going to snap at any moment.

Rebecca quickly strode over to stand with John to whisper.

"what's going on?"

But no sooner had she stepped into view of the window a red dot of light appeared on her forehead.

The room became as still as stone and soon the only sound Sherlock could hear was the breaths of his nemesis in his ear from the receiver.

" _Oh Sherlock._ " Moriarty pouted, the sound deadlier than a snake's hiss and just as frightening " _That is just simply unacceptable. Not sportsmanlike at all. Whatever am I going to do with you?"_

"For starters you can take that sniper off Miss Monday" Sherlock's eyes flickered to Rebecca who was beginning to sweat as she stood there rooted to the spot by fear as the red dot of the snipers pointer trailed down her face to rest at her throat

"And then we can talk…in private"

But Moriarty merely tutted " _no, no, no Sherlock you don't understand._ _You interfere with my work; you mess with my games…but to steal my pretty sweet Toffee from me?_ _Sherlock, Sherlock, Sherlock! We are beyond talking now. I warned you once before that if you keep prying into my business I would burn you…that I would burn the heart right out of you."_

"Like you tried to do to the Lady-bird" Sherlock's eyes narrowed.

" _Oh you liked that one didn't you. I knew you would_ " Moriarty now sounded rather gleeful " _But that was just a starter. The real fun is still to begin. But this time Sherlock Holmes. I'd watch my back. We wouldn't want anything to happen to your pretty little wife or your sweet niece or nephew now do we_?"

Sherlock snarled "Touch a hair on any of their heads Moriarty and there will be more than just me after your head I can assure you"

" _Oh how exciting!_ _You're really getting fired up now aren't you? Oh boy oh boy! This will be fun._ " Moriarty almost squealed with delight " _Say hello to the kiddies for me. Tell them Mr Moriarty looks forwards to playing with them._ "

"Moriarty!" Sherlock called but already the other end of the line went dead.

Rebecca gulped as the red pointer light moved back up to her forehead before vanishing in an instant.

She sighed with relief and her legs wobbled.

John caught her quickly before she hit the floor.

"Come on let's get you something to drink" he said soothingly as he settled her down on the couch.

Sherlock however rushed to the window and tried to crane his neck to see upwards.

But it was in vain. Any of the rooms from the street across had perfect vantage points from which a sniper could position themselves.

He quickly flipped out his phone and pressed the speed dial on two.

"Mycroft, It's Moriarty…he's back"


	8. The Big Bad Wolf of Baskerville Part 1 - Domestic Bliss Baker Street Style

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new day... new life...a new case...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up the next few chapters are actually separated parts of the whole of The Hound Of Baskerville episode, from Season 2 of Sherlock. any lines or events you recognise from the series belongs to whoever originally wrote them, but anything you don't recognise (like my OC) belongs to me.
> 
> And so now without further adieu enjoy.

Rebecca yawned widely as she stretched out on the large white sheets and looked around her. She was in a decently sized bedroom, with dark wooden floors, plain light bone white wallpaper with faint tracery that looked like bare winter trees creeping over the walls under a snow white ceiling. The bed she was on was large and the soft deep forest green comforter was nice and warm and toasty.

Oh how it was nice to be able to sleep in a bed that was her own again…

There came a ring at her I-phone which she quickly took into her hand.

A message was on her locked screen.

_Perimeter secure, but Boss still wants you and twins to stay put with the boys upstairs till he gets proper report._

She rolled her eyes and groaned. Great! Mycroft and his…flying monkeys were tightening her leash yet again.

Mycroft had gotten back to Sherlock's message as quickly as he possibly could, which turned out only to be a mere five minutes worth of time. Following that he'd arranged for their security to be vamped up to level five…which whilst he didn't provide much information, Rebecca slowly gathered from the past week or so that it was code for house arrest.

Even Sherlock, John and Mrs Hudson had to conform to the new guidelines, with at least one of them having to stay in the flat with Rebecca, Theodore and Tabatha throughout the day. Neither child could even go to school until the eldest Holmes brother was sure that the threat of Moriarty had passed to some degree.

The doctor and the old woman did not mind doing so too much on their days off from work at the clinic and snack shop. Mrs Hudson enjoyed Rebecca's company in the kitchen and loved to fuss over the twins, and John was more than happy to play video games, read or watch TV with them when he was not too busy, and when Mycroft's men came down to renovate 221C he even volunteered to help them all move in.

Rebecca could remember the day he'd helped her assemble her bed and the exhausted but accomplished smile on his face as he finished screwing on the last bedknob. It was almost like he was relieved and overjoyed to be working at something as dull as that.

But this only begged the question. Just what outrageous stuff did he and Sherlock do during their cases?

And speaking of the detective…

Rebecca quickly looked up at the ceiling. It had been strangely quiet for most of the morning, a bit too quiet to be normal. Usually she would've heard the groans and shuffling of feet above her as Sherlock wandered about his living room, complaining loudly to John about the state of his life thus far.

Unlike the doctor upstairs, Rebecca's new…husband had not taken too well to the sudden changes to his once free bachelor lifestyle. Not having the freedom to go and do whatever he liked when he liked as well as minding some of his more…eccentric behaviour around the children was proving to be rather a struggle for the consulting detective and he was always looking for an excuse to wheedle out of the house and look for new and exciting cases.

He'd even been desperate enough one time to ask her for permission to take the twins out with him to Scotland Yard, on the pretence that he was going to take them out for ice cream. But Rebecca had lived with three Holmes family members before Baker Street and she knew their lying faces when she saw it, especially Sherlock's and Teddy's as they both shared most of the same facial features.

Rebecca bit her lip as she slipped over to her wardrobe and began to pull out clothes for the day. Now that she thought hard about it, Mycroft might have struck gold with his idea of passing off Teddy and Tabby as Sherlock's and her kids. They both looked like Sherlock but reacted to her like they were her own children, which, she had to remind herself, they almost certainly were if she had anything to say about it. She did not spend nearly ten years of her life focusing on helping to raise two children for nothing!

As she slipped on a large comfy blue hoody over a white T-shirt and a pair of comfy jeans, she allowed her thoughts to wander to the pale, high cheek boned but feminine face of her old friend.

_The kids miss you. I miss you. Your parents miss you and so do your brothers. Oh Gwen, where are you? Are you alright? Are you even alive? You better be you loopy old fruit bat or else I'll hunt you down myself!_

She quickly scrubbed at her eyes as she made her way out into her new open plan living space slash kitchen slash dining room.

She quickly looked towards the three other doors, besides the one that led to her bedroom, that led off the main living space. Two bedrooms and one bathroom for the three of them.

It was actually a rather nice space, now that everything was clean and newly done up. The walls had been painted over in bone just like her bedroom and had basic furniture set in various shades of white browns, crèmes and beiges. However despite the cleanness and crispness of the visage it lacked…personality…

Her heart twinged slightly as she remembered the flat above her parent's bookshop what with its narrow staircase, its ebony black wooden accents, white wallpaper with black feathered print and its door knockers all quirkily moulded into the shapes of bird heads or talons. Now that to her was a home with character.

Heck even the boy's apartment upstairs had more flare and pizazz even though its occupants, or one of its occupants, constantly kept it in a messy state of turmoil.

The way this apartment looked right now made her feel like she was looking at the result of the architect spilling the contents of a full mug of Cappuccino over his rather blank plans.

When she finally got more leeway with security she was severely considering going out and buying some more tasteful decorations.

She quickly checked two of the other bedrooms. Both were empty. The twins must've gone upstairs to eat breakfast with John and Sherlock.

She sighed fondly and wondered again about what Gwen was doing and why she was missing out on all of this.

_Maybe I should get a few photos for her the next time we play Cluedo._

Rebecca chuckled softly to herself as she slipped on a pair of fluffy slippers and a heavy laptop bag, remembering the night before John had come back from his day job excitedly with a new untouched box of said board game under one arm and had declared that they would play it after dinner to celebrate the fact that the three newest residence of Baker Street had officially moved in.

However, considering that there were three super observant Holmes's playing, that plan did not go so well as either he or she hoped. All three of them had different ideas on how the crime took place, and all methods were not acceptable by the games rules.

She made her way upstairs and smiled as she entered the living room where Teddy and Tabby were sitting on the floor front of the television as John typed away on his laptop.

"Good Morning" she yawned.

"Good morning" John smiled at her "How was the first night in your new flat?"

"Unbelievable" she grinned as she made to curl up on the sofa, leaning on one of its arms. John's grin widened ever so slightly. It seemed as if that was slowly becoming her permanent spot…much to Sherlock's chagrin.

_Ah speak of the devil_

John looked up just as a familiar pair of feet came thundering up the stairs.

Both his and Rebecca's eyes bulged out of their sockets.

"Well, that was tedious"

The tall pale form of Sherlock Holmes stood in the doorway, leaning against the long metal harpoon in one hand as he breathed heavily, his entire body splattered head to foot in deep red-

"Sherlock…what the hell happened to you?" Rebecca gulped glancing at the twins who thankfully were glued to the cartoon on the screen and didn't seem to notice their uncle's extremely disturbing entrance.

"An experiment for a case." Sherlock shrugged nonchalantly, wiping at his brow and further staining the sleeve of his white shirt. "I needed to test out the trajectory of blood splatters so I harpooned a dead pig. Relatively straight forwards procedure. Though the pig was quite more filled with fluid than I initially thought"

"And you went on the tube like that?" John's fingers were suspended in mid-air above his keyboard much like his jaw had once been.

"None of the cabs would take me" the detective scowled before stalking off and up the stairs.

Rebecca turned her head to John who smirked as he recommenced his typing once more.

"Don't look at me, like that. You're the one who's married to him remember?"

"Says the Other Man who's lived with him for months"

Even though Rebecca was officially his wife on paper, people still seemed to assume John was the Sherlock's boyfriend. However instead of being offended and snooty the two of them took it in their stride and soon it had kind of become their thing to joke and tease each other in private about the pretend love triangle.

John chuckled as, giggling, the woman opposite him flung the Union Jack cushion at him only for it to land on his face with a small thwump

"SHH!" Tabby hissed. "we're trying to listen!"

The two adults snickered softly but nonetheless settled back down into comfortable silence. Rebecca smiled as she took out her new shiny black Laptop and opened up her work from the day before.

True to his word Mycroft, was now sending Rebecca reports and work pertaining to different people that were: (a) working for him and the government (b)were working for enemies or (c) individuals that belonged to no third or second party.

Currently she was working on the third option, a small drug smuggler who so far seemed to be suffering from mental diseases due to the long term effects of a daily cocktail of drugs. But that was the cartel's problem not hers.

"Stupid moron" she muttered.

"Who is?"

Rebecca looked up and saw Sherlock stride back into the room, dressed in a fresh white shirt and black suit his favourite blue silk dressing gown over the top. He was still holding the harpoon in his hands.

She turned her screen around in her lap to show him the picture of a balding man with papery skin and a thin gaunt face.

"Marijuana and LSD trafficker from Yorkshire. He has clear signs of severe chronic psychosis. However due to recent reports about his behaviour it would be safe to say he is also starting to develop the early symptoms of Schizophrenia"

"Charming" he muttered distractedly "And the crimes?"

"Apart from the trafficking? Nothing really worth talking about" Rebecca shrugged.

Sherlock groaned with aggravation and at once began to pace.

Teddy and Tabby both sighed with irritation as the sound of his feet began to thump loudly in their ears.

"Come on! Let's go read upstairs it'll be quieter" they both huffed and walked up the stairs to Sherlock's bedroom, which they proceeded to barricade themselves in hastily.

It seemed to have become one of their favourite spots in the flat. It was quiet and mostly undisturbed because Sherlock rarely used it. That and they loved the odd but highly advanced contents of his bookshelf.

Sherlock continued to pace up and down his body almost as wired as if an electric current was constantly surging through him.

"Nothing?" he looked at John who quickly opened up a search engine on his laptop.

"Military coup in Uganda"

"The mystery of Mycroft's constantly failing diet" Rebecca smirked but Sherlock waved her off.

"That's no mystery! Mycroft just can't resist pigging out on cake! Anything else?"

"Well there's you in the…er" John quickly picked up a newspaper from beside him and held it up for them all to see. On the front Sherlock's face was printed in colour, his cheekbones obscured by his Belstaff coat and his mop of dark curls covered by a deer stalker.

"Oh!" the real life man growled in exasperation, as John sighed in one last attempt to find something useful.

"um…cabinet re-shuffle!"

"Nothing of importance? OH GOD!"

Rebecca winced as Sherlock banged the harpoon sharply on the ground.

He turned his head sharply on John who stiffened slightly as he hissed.

"John, I need some. Get me some"

"No" John glared back but Sherlock was positively seething now.

"Get me some."

"No! Cold turkey we agreed, no matter what" John stated firmly as Sherlock turned his back and began to pace once more "Anyway, you've paid everyone off, remember? No one in a two mile radius will sell you any"

"Stupid idea. Who's idea was that?" Sherlock looked accusingly at Rebecca who rolled her eyes, not taking them off her report.

_Of course! Blame the wife for everything!_

"Sorry Sherlock. You made your bed now you lie in it"

A vein in the man's pale temple throbbed visibly as he boomed.

"MRS HUDSON!"

But there was no reply. Sherlock quickly darted over, eyes wide and curls flying as he began to literally tear through the room with his bare hands, as he searched wildly for his hidden loot.

"Look Sherlock," John tried to peacefully intervene "You're doing really well, don't give up now!"

But Sherlock had already made his way over to Rebecca and had grabbed her shoulders hard.

"Tell me where they are! Please, tell me!"

He looked hard into her bewildered face and after a moment of pausing, quickly let her go.

He straightened up and bit his lip nervously as he mumbled with a quiet sort of desperation.

"please"

"Sorry Sherlock but I can't help" she shook her head and gave an apologetic shrug.

"I'll let you know next week's lottery numbers" he pouted childishly, looking rather like his nephew did whenever he asked for seconds at dinner.

But Rebecca was not fooled. She merely raised her eyebrows.

John chuckled at the sight and Sherlock muttered.

"It was worth a try"

It took Rebecca all she had to stop herself from taking out her i-phone and recording him on video as Sherlock practically pounced onto the piles of books and clutter and began to fling it all behind him, like a dog looking for its lost bone.

"yoo-hoo!"

"Oh Good morning Mrs Hudson" Rebecca smiled as Mrs Hudson came bustling into the room.

"My secret supply!" Sherlock cried out at once "What have you done with my secret supply"

"Eh?"

"Cigarettes, what have you done with them?"

"You never let me touch your things! Oh chance would be a fine thing" the old lady snorted as she looked over the mess that had just been made.

Sherlock stood up and glowered at her.

"I thought you weren't my housekeeper?"

"She's not" Rebecca frowned and he growled with frustration, passing by her once more to fetch his harpoon off the floor.

John shook his head with as both the females exchanged the same exasperated looks with each other.

"How about a nice cuppa" Mrs Hudson sighed "and perhaps you could put away your harpoon"

"I need something stronger than tea!" Sherlock growled before quickly looking around the room "Seven percent stronger"

He inhaled roughly through his nose to try and calm his mind and at once two scents hit him. One was the usual cooking smell that surrounded mrs Hudson, though it was somehow laced with something else and the other was Rebecca's perfume.

It had entered the heart note now and that meant it was all floral on him once more. He had to admit he wasn't usually fond of women's scents but the way it mixed with her skin really was quite pleasing to the olfactory senses…perhaps a little too much so for his comfort.

He quickly turned back round and held out his harpoon in front of him. He scanned Rebecca with his eyes and was met once again with question marks.

"no can't read you" he muttered before rounding on Mrs Hudson who jumped a little as the sharp tip of the weapon pointed her way.

_Aha! Got it!_

"You've been to see Mr Chatterjee again."

"Pardon?"

"Sandwich shop. That's a new dress, but there's flour on the sleeve. You wouldn't dress like that for baking."

"Sherlock" John tried to butt in but Sherlock was ruthless in his assault.

"Thumbnail. Tiny traces of foil. Been at the scratch cards again. We all know where that leads, don't we. Hmm" he pulled up the harpoon and inhaled again "Kasbah Nights, pretty racy for a Monday morning, wouldn't you agree Rebecca? Ever since our little chat I've researched and written a blog on the identification of Perfumes. It's on the website, you should look it up Mrs Hudson"

"Please" Mrs Hudson blanched.

"Oh and I wouldn't pin your hopes on that cruise with Mr Chatterjee, hes got a wife in Doncaster that nobody knows about"

"Sherlock!" Rebecca and John both cried out in unison as they saw the poor older woman's eyes well up and become over bright.

"Well nobody except me"

"I don't know what you're talking about, I really don't!"

"Mrs Hudson!" Rebecca ran after her but she'd already shut the door with a slam.

John scowled at Sherlock sternly.

"What the bloody hell was all that about?!"

"You don't understand" Sherlock held himself tight as he crouched on his own seat, rocking a little backwards and forwards like a small child.

Rebecca's blond waves swished around and her green hazel eyes flashed with stormy fury as she strode back into the room to glared down at Sherlock.

"Go after her and apologise!" John winced. She was using the voice she usually spared for the kids whenever they misbehaved, the very motherly tones that had him almost always feeling like looking down at his shoes.

Sherlock looked up at her his face a mask of confusion.

"Apologise?"

He sounded like he'd never even heard of the word before.

Both John and Rebecca nodded.

"Oh…I envy you both so much" he shook his head in irritation.

"I'm sorry but what did you say?" Rebecca folded her arms exchanging very unamused eyes with the man next to her.

"Your minds, they're so placid, straight-forward, barely used. But mine's like an engine, racing out of control. A rocket, tearing itself to pieces, trapped on the launch pad. I NEED A CASE!"

"You just solved one!" John cried out as Rebecca face-palmed beside him. "By harpooning a dead pig, apparently!"

"Argh! That was this morning! When's the next one" Sherlock flumped back in his chair and began to twitch as his body suddenly began to go into extreme withdrawal.

"There's nothing on the website" John groaned, but Sherlock quickly shook his head head and took Rebecca's laptop from the sofa and handed it to her.

"Dear Mr Sherlock Holmes" he said in a sing song voice "I can't find Bluebell anywhere. Please, please, please can you help?"

"Bluebelle?"

"A rabbit John!" Sherlock snapped grabbing Rebecca's hand on the mouse and forcing her to continue scrolling through the story as he continuing dramatically "Ah but there's more. Before Bluebell disappeared it turned luminous. _Like a fairy_ " he added in a surprisingly high falsetto "according to little Kirsty. Then the next morning Bluebell was gone. Hutch still locked, no sign of a forced entry. Ah"

He paused and looked at them all as wonderment flooded his face.

"What am I saying this is brilliant! John phone Lestrade. Tell him there's an escaped rabbit."

"Are you-" John began.

"Serious?" Rebecca finished slightly open mouthed.

Sherlock fixed them both with a shrewd look.

"It's either this, or Cluedo"

"Ah no!" John quickly stood up to attention and began to rush around to resettle the room "We are never playing that again"

"Why not?" Sherlock frowned in confusion and Rebecca sighed heavily as she placed her computer to the side again.

"Because _oh dear husband of mine_ ," Sherlock gave her a rather scathing look at the title. He always hated to be reminded he wasn't as he would say, a free man, anymore. " it's not possible for the victim to have done it! They're the one who's supposed to be dead"

"But it's the only possible solution"

"yeah well in the rules the victim cannot commit suicide" she took a step towards him challenging his personal space.

"Well then the rules are wrong!" he took his own step forward so that he towered over her.

There was a silence as they both breathed into each other's faces each one trying to stare as unblinkingly as he or she could without breaking. Unfortunately for both of them they were equally stubborn as mules.

John shook his head now half amused half annoyed as they proceeded to have one of their now very common staring matches with each other.

"Oh come on just admit it already" he groaned under his breath.

"Admit what?" the reluctant newlyweds turned to look at him.

He opened his mouth in a sigh.

_BRING!_

The doorbell rang.

All three of their heads turned at once at the sound.

"Single ring" John noted.

"High pitch" Rebecca quirked an eyebrow.

"Maximum pressure just under the half second" the corners of Sherlock's mouth twitched upwards as they all looked at each other.

"Client!"

* * *

Rebecca was busy cleaning up the clutter of books behind Sherlock's chair when Tabby and Teddy decided to sneak down the stairs.

They'd never been allowed to listen in on Sherlock's cases with his clients. Something John said about confidentiality agreement.

But still, they were bored and they were Holmes's…and that wasn't a good combination at all.

They hid behind a few piles of books peeking through the gaps in-between the columns, as their three carers and a strange man sat together in front of the TV on which a strange DVD was playing, with a woman's voice over.

_Dartmoor. It's always been a place of Myth and legend. But is there something else lurking out here? Something very real. You see Dartmoor is also home to one of the government's most secret of operations, the chemical and biological weapons research centre which is said to be even more sensitive than Porton Down._

The twins faces both split into excited grins as an image of sign reading _Baskerville_ flashed over the TV screen.

_Since the end of the Second World War, there have been persistent stories about the Baskerville experiments. Genetic mutations, animals grown for the battlefield. There are many who believe that within this compound, in the heart of this ancient wilderness there are horrors beyond imagining. But the real question is…are they still inside?_

The screen suddenly flickered to an interview in which the same strange man that sat across from Sherlock, who had brown hair and large mousy ears with stubble over his chin, was speaking timidly as his name flashed beside his image.

_Henry Knight, Grimpen resident._

_"I was just a kid. It was on the moor. It was dark but I know what I saw. I know what killed my father_."

Sherlock sighed and pressed the pause button just as Rebecca popped up from behind him, her toffee waves bouncing a little.

"What? Was that it then?"

She sounded a little disappointed. She couldn't help it. She'd always been a little bit of a fan of supernatural stuff, even when she was a kid, probably thanks to her parents who both introduced her to Science fiction geniuses like Isaac Asimov.

But Sherlock was not remotely interested in her, though he did find her pop up secretly rather amusing. However business was at hand and he had to be diligent.

"What did you see?" he leaned forwards intently.

"Oh…" the man, Henry stuttered nervously "I was just about to say"

"Yes in a TV interview. But I prefer to do my own editing" Sherlock quirked a brow as he brought the tips of his fingers together.

"Yes…sorry…yes of course" Henry gulped.

"Excuse me" he looked up at them all sheepishly as he quickly pulled out a dirty paper napkin.

"In your own time" John smiled pleasantly.

"But quite quickly" Sherlock pressed.

Rebecca shook her head but then quickly froze, her eyes freezing on the two piles of books. Behind them were two silhouettes.

"Excuse me" she muttered quietly slipping across the room.

Once she reached the books she quickly crouched down behind them.

Tabby and Teddy looked up at her with sheepish grins. She sighed heavily and pulled them both up to follow her up the stairs.

"I know it's boring to have to wait so long" she murmured, doing her best to ignore the sounds from downstairs as Sherlock and John continued their interview.

"But you can't risk being seen yet by outside people."

"But why?" Tabby whined.

Rebecca sighed again.

"You two remember that Moriarty guy"

"the mean guy that had the gunman pointing at you?" Teddy gritted his teeth.

"Yes that guy." Rebecca nodded patiently "You see…he's looking for us at the moment and we cannot let him find us. We just have to hang tight for a little bit longer for your Uncle Mycroft to lead him off our trail."

"just a little bit longer?"

"just a little bit longer" she quickly reached out and hugged the both of them.

"Is Moriarty after mummy too?" Teddy mumbled softly into his auntie's hair "Is that why she had to go away? Because someone was chasing after her"

"We don't know for certain" Rebecca whispered pulling away. "But what we do know is that she loves you and she'll do her best to come back. It may not be soon but she will try and come back for you two. And until then I promise you I will never leave you ok? Now come here and give your aunty another hug"

She held the two of them close to her and they held on tightly in return.

Finally after a full minute or so they pulled away and Rebecca stood up.

"Right now I'm going to go back downstairs why don't you two go play one of the boardgames in Uncle Sherlock's room alright?"

"Okay" they both nodded before quickly scarpering off up the stairs.

She smiled warmly before making her way back down the staircase. She saw Sherlock walking through the door and was just about to call out to him when Henry Knight's voice called desperately from behind.

"Mr Holmes they were the footprints of a gigantic HOUND!"

Sherlock froze in his spot as he paused beside a kitchen counter on which one of his many experiments was awaiting him.

Rebecca watched with bated breath as he slowly but surely turned around to look back on his client.

"Say that again"

"I found footprint's they were big-"

"No, no, no, your exact words. Repeat your exact words from a moment ago exactly as you said them"

It took a couple of minutes for Henry to recall what he'd said before during which time Rebecca had come to stand by Sherlock's side in the doorway.

"Mr Holmes…They were the footprints of a gigantic … _hound!_ "

It took a moment for Rebecca to process what she'd just heard.

_Footprints…Hound? But a hound is a kind of dog and all dogs share similar paw prints…the only real differences between different kinds being the size of the dog. But hounds can come in nearly all sizes so how could he distinguish the difference?_

She exchanged a look with Sherlock who seemed to be thinking along the same lines, albeit a lot faster, if that smug little smile was anything to go by.

"I'll take the case" he strode back into the room.

"Sorry what?" John looked completely stumped.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention. It's very promising."

"No, no, no, sorry what?" John repeated frowning "a minute ago footprints were boring, and now they're very promising?"

"It's got nothing to do with footprints, you weren't listening?" he quickly turned round to Rebecca "Baskerville ever heard of it?"

"very, very vaguely…it's kind of like the Area 51 of the UK right?" Rebecca shrugged.

"Well then it sounds like a good place to start'

"you'll…you'll come down then?" Henry looked so hopeful but Sherlock merely waved him off.

"No, I can't leave London at the moment, far too busy at the moment. but don't worry. I'm putting my best man onto it." he clapped a hand on a still very surprised John's shoulder "I can always rely on John to send me the relevant data, as he never understands a word of it usually."

"What are-what are you talking about?" John cried out "You don't have a case! A minute ago you were complaining-"

"Bluebell John! I've got Bluebell! The case of the vanishing glow in the dark rabbit. NATO's in uproar" Sherlock smirked at Rebecca who rolled her eyes trying and failing to not smile at his antics. Seriously sometimes he was worse than the twins.

"Oh so you're not coming then?" Henry was now looking thoroughly confused.

Sherlock sighed heavily, giving an all too sad puppy pout at John who gritted his teeth with aggravation.

"Alright…Ok…Ok…" the doctor quickly strode over to the mantelpiece and pulled up the very much treasured large ivory skull that sat there. He pulled out the small packet of cigarettes and tossed them to Sherlock who quickly caught them…only to throw them over his shoulder.

"I don't need those anymore. I'm going to Dartmoor" he smiled he made his way for the door "you go on ahead Henry, we'll follow you later"

"Wait a moment so you are coming?" Poor Henry was now so mind boggled that Rebecca could seriously see the question marks appear from his skull and float out into the space around his head.

"20 year old disappearance, a monstrous hound? Wouldn't miss this for the world. Come on Rebecca get the kids ready you're coming too"

"Wha-SHERLOCK!" Rebecca cried out but the detective was already up the stairs.

"Is he always that confusing?" Henry looked at John who shook his head.

"You have no idea"


	9. The Big Bad Wolf of Baskerville Part 2 - Fright Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap:
> 
> Sherlock, John, Rebecca and the twins were visited by Henry Knight at 221B Baker St. After a rather rocky interview Sherlock agrees to take the case but also decides to drag his new family out with him to Dartmoor.
> 
> A monstrous hound and a haunted moor in the middle of nowhere? A pretty good idea for a small family getaway...or is it?

"Right that's the last of the luggage" John called as he lifted two small travel cases down the steps. He, Sherlock and Rebecca were standing next to a large cab outside Speedy's Café on Baker Street, in which Theodore and Tabatha were strapped in next to each other flicking through their new ipods.

They were gifts sent from their uncle Mycroft, who after being told off by his mother (to whom Sherlock had deliberately dobbed in to) came back the next day after Moriarty's threat and apologised for insulting them the first time they met.

"-cruise together you had no intention of taking me on a boat!"

BANG!

Something heavy thumped against the café glass from the inside and Sherlock, John and Rebecca all winced.

"Oh! Looks like Mrs Hudson finally got to the wife in Doncaster" John quickly deposited his cargo into the car boot.

"Wait till she finds out about the one in Islamabad" Sherlock hummed as they saw Mrs Hudson tower over an obscured crouching figure.

"hmm"

He turned just in time to see Rebecca biting at her lip nervously.

"What's wrong?"

"Are you sure we can just leave so suddenly?" She glanced at the street around them.

"You're still going to be with both John and I if that's what you're worried about?"

"It's not that I'm worried Sherlock! It's just… won't Mycroft be co-"

"What Mycroft doesn't know won't hurt him" Sherlock bristled before leaning down slightly so he could mutter "and that goes for Moriarty as well"

"Moriarty?"

"Yes him. Is there any other Moriarty you know?"

"N-no…I-I-" Rebecca stammered "We should get in the cab"

She quickly dashed off to enter the parked vehicle leaving Sherlock standing alone on the pavement.

She's scared of Moriarty even though she clearly doesn't know who he is…Moriarty is possessive of her…possessive enough to kill me and John…so what is their connection?

"Sherlock!" John called from an open window.

"Paddington station" The detective called to the driver as he quickly took his seat in the cab.

It was barely ten in the morning and already his mind was buzzing with questions. Oh what a brilliant way to start the day!

* * *

It was well in the afternoon when they'd arrived on the moors of Dartmoor. They'd taken the train from Paddington and stopped off at the edge of the National Park where they managed to hire a rather large four wheel drive.

Now they were standing at an outcrop of rock, on which Sherlock had climbed up with Tabby to get a better look of their surroundings. The detective was surprised by how nimbly the young girl had climbed up after him and by how little she seemed to be affected by the height. It was like she was part mountain goat.

Sherlock smirked, noting with some amusement that she was wearing a woollen ruby red hooded riding coat with a black faux fur lining to match the black buttons. The colour was quite striking and made the young girls brown curls and pale complexion seem to pop.

His eyes lingered on her face, tracing lines across it on autopilot only stopping when she noticed and grinned up at him.

"I was bored…" shrugged as he quirked a brow down at her. "And I like climbing stuff"

"…Fair enough"

She really did have the Holmes family streak.

Meanwhile on the ground Teddy decided to stay down with John to read the map they'd brought along.

"There's Baskerville" John pointed to a large white and black mass some few miles off to their right, before turning to point behind them.

"And Grimpen village is just there".

"So that's Dewer's Hollow" Teddy pointed to a dark patch in the distance where a small wooded area obscured a good bit of land from their eyes.

"Yes that is" John smirked

"What's that?" Tabby called from the rock above and pointed in the direction of the white complex where fences and large signs were surrounding it.

"A mine field?" Rebecca squinted over the green landscape about her as she handed John the binoculars.

"Hmm…probably. Technically Baskerville's an army base so I guess they've always been keen to keep people out"

"Clearly" Sherlock frowned.

The moor was so isolated and bleak but at the same time remarkably beautiful.

There was a loud gurgle and Sherlock looked down as Tabatha blushed scarlet.

"Sorry" she mumbled.

Sherlock smirked, though it was a little softer than what it usually was.

"Don't be. You and your brother have been very patient to sit in that car for all this time without complaining. I'm just surprised this didn't happen sooner. JOHN! REBECCA!" he called loudly.

"We'll check in at the Village first!" 

* * *

 

They arrived at Grimpen Village, a hamlet that whilst small was quite charming. Indeed the inn they were staying at, called the Cross Keys Inn, was quite a large building with a decent sized bar and restaurant on the ground floor level that offered lovely views of the moors from the second and third floor rooms.

As they stepped out of the parked car Sherlock's eyes darted around to check their surroundings. Calm quiet and mostly empty to his right. He looked to his left and saw Rebecca staring out into space.

Sherlock looked in the direction she was facing. There beyond that close by building was a wide expanse of empty moor. He sneakily glanced back at her.

Her lips were smiling but her eyes were sad.

Odd…

"Oy Sherlock you coming!" John called out loudly, snapping not only the detective from his thoughts, but Rebecca from her trance. She quickly coughed and barely had enough time to compose herself as Tabby and Teddy each grabbed her by one had each and began to tug her to walk excitedly in front of Sherlock and John.

They walked in pleasant silence the country air fresh and untainted by pollution.

As they neared the entrance to the inn they passed a group of people, at the centre of which a man with a sign painted with a black dog on the front, grinned and said playfully.

"Right, three tours a day. Tell your friends, tell anyone. Don't be strangers. And remember, stay away from the moor at night if you value your lives"

The crowd around the tour guide tittered and chuckled as they dispersed. The man caught sight of Rebecca and when she turned to see what was in his direction he gave her a quick wink. He was sorely disappointed when she merely glanced away with indifference, and cringed slightly when John and Sherlock passed him, the latter sparing him a sinisterly scathing look as he pulled up the dark collar of his large coat.

When John raised his eyebrows at him he merely muttered.

"It's cold"

"Right" John smirked. "Cold"

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

The doctor rolled his eyes.

"You know for someone who claims to have genius intellect you really do not have a clue about how attraction works"

"You're wrong John. I know plenty about the chemistry behind reactions to what is considered conventionally appealing"

"You mean you know what it's conventionally supposed to look like…But do you know what it's like to actually feel for someone…physically speaking?"

Sherlock chose to stay silent, but quickened his pace so that John was left alone to stroll at the back of their group.

The doctor bit his lip remembering those few months ago when Sherlock had believed Irene Adler to be dead and his reaction to her being alive. He knew that the woman had rather liked Sherlock herself, which had in the most ironic of twists to him, had been the clincher for the entire case.

John knew that the detective considered her to be one of his more worthy adversaries with her mental prowess but he could not help but wonder if Sherlock had even been remotely interested in her in the physical sense. Even when she'd paraded herself naked in front of him he didn't seem even remotely affected, even though she was by all means a rather gorgeous specimen in her own right.

But if that was the case then was Sherlock right about him imagining his attraction to Rebecca. Though John had to admit that would be a feat in itself since the woman had the glamorous look of an old style Hollywood actress. Was it the vexation with her obscurity to his deductions that had him enthralled? And once he did figure her out, would he then chuck her into the pile of his solved cases like a typical trophy.

John hoped not. He'd grown to quite like the woman in her short stay. Whilst she wasn't his type dating wise, that didn't stop them from being rather fast friends. She was smart, caring but had enough balls to take on life as it came, which was almost a necessary requirement in the job description for looking after people in the Holmes family.

Rebecca took the twins into the restaurant where they were met with a large friendly looking man in a red plaid shirt.

"Well hello there miss, table for three?"

"Four actually" Rebecca said as John came up beside her looking a little put out.

"Ah I see…family menu then" the man's eyes twinkled knowingly.

"Oh we're not, he/she's not" the two of them both fumbled around for words much to the amusement of the twins who both looked up at them with quirked eyebrows.

"They're siblings" Sherlock's deep voice rumbled from Rebecca's side as he swooped in from behind, one hand on her shoulder, the other extending out to shake the man's hand. "My name is Sherlock Holmes. This is my wife, Rebecca, my children Tabatha and Theodore and this is my brother in law John"

At the mention of Sherlock and Rebecca being called a married couple the two twins began to snigger softly under their breaths. They couldn't help it. Their Aunt Becca married to a guy like their uncle Sherlock…it was just too weird.

"Nice to meet you." The man smiled warmly "I'm Gary, my partner Billy, oh um, he's in the kitchen, and I run this place. Now are you all looking to stay over the night or are you just here for the day?"

"Maybe a couple of over nights" John exchanged a look with Sherlock who gave the minutest of nods "We thought it'd be nice to get out of the city for a few days. Let the kids see a little fresh air if you catch my drift"

"Ah yes the country air is quite refreshing. Good food for the soul" Gary agreed in good salesman form.

"I don't want food for the soul" Teddy grumbled scowling as his sister nodded vigorously.

"Yeah I just want food"

"Tabby, Teddy" Sherlock and John shared a smirk as Rebecca quickly looked up apologetically to Gary who had begun to chuckle loudly.

"Oh don't worry Mrs Holmes, nothing a good solid lunch can't remedy. Though I must warn you, we only cook vegetarian meals here. So that means no meat"

"That should be fine" Rebecca sighed in relief.

"So table for five while we see to the rooms?" Gary asked quickly.

"Table for four" Sherlock said before adding quickly. "I think I need to stretch my legs out some more after that drive"

He made a grunt and gave a quick pointed look at John who nodded once.

"Make that a table for three. I might just sit by the bar and have a drink for a moment"

"Sure thing, right this way."

As they followed Gary to the restaurant Sherlock pulled John and Rebecca back.

"Keep eyes and ears open"

"For the hound?" Rebecca quirked her eyebrows.

"For everything" Sherlock hissed. "Anything at all"

"Right…" John nodded "We'll text if we find anything suspicious"

They split apart.

John made his way over to the bar where he sat and began to talk to Gary again as Sherlock begun to prowl around the room.

Rebecca decided to take a table next to a window that not only gave her a pretty decent view of the street outside but also of the entire room whilst keeping her and the children from suspicious eyes.

She quietly peeked over her menu to look around the room at large.

It looked moderately respectable; the bar was typical for any pub, clientele average townsfolk and tourists mostly. the building had a rather wholesome feel and the smells from the kitchen door, that kept opening and closing were good and warm. Overall it was actually not bad for such a place stuck out in the middle of nowhere.

As the waiter came by the table and quickly took their orders she strained her ears to hear John at the bar.

"On the map of the moor a skull and crossbones?"

"Oh that" Gary's eyebrows rose and John returned the gesture.

"pirates?"

"Er no, no" Gary chuckled "The Great Grimpen Minefield they call it"

"Oh right"

"It's not what you think. It's the Baskerville testing site. It's been going for eighty odd years. I'm not sure anyone really knows what's there anymore"

A shadow appeared over her and Rebecca looked up as Sherlock came to stand by Tabatha and Theodore.

When she caught his eye she shook her head, before nodding towards John and Gary. Sherlock leaned as casually as he could against the wall, putting a hand on his nephew's hair and ruffling it up in an attempt to look casual as the two men continued talking.

"Aye. No it buggers up tourism a bit, so thank God for the demon hound. Did you see that show?"

"The documentary? Quite recently yeah"

"God bless Henry Knight and his monster from hell" Gary sighed with relief.

"Ever seen it…the hound?" John glanced at the table as Sherlock quietly extricated himself from the twins to slink quietly closer to his spot, the better to hear him with.

Gary shook his head.

"Me? No, no but Fletcher has" he pointed out the window and Sherlock turned his head to see the tour guide from before standing outside talking on his mobile phone. "He runs the walks, the monster walks for the tourists, you know. He's seen it"

"Tell John to meet me outside" Sherlock hissed to Rebecca as he quickly stepped outside and walked up to the tour guide, Fletcher, as the man put down his sign at a table outside.

He seemed to be in a hurry to get off the phone. Sherlock glanced at his pant pocket from which a racing form was sticking out blatantly obvious for the whole world to see. Oh this was going to be easy.

"Mind if I join you?"

Fletcher shrugged and Sherlock sat down quickly glancing behind him. He could clearly see Rebecca on the other side of the window opposite quickly saying something to John who left her side at once.

She then turned back to the young teenage waiter who just at that moment decided to arrive with the twins and her food.

She smiled politely at him and the boy flushed a bright pink before stuttering and dashing off.

Sherlock shook his head and snorted.

Teenage boys…so stupid…

He turned back to the matter at hand.

"It's not true is it? you haven't actually seen this…hound thing?" he smirked.

"You from the papers" Fletcher's eyebrows rose.

"Nothing like that, just curious" Sherlock assured him before pressing "Have you seen it?"

"Maybe"

"Have you got proof?"

"Why would I tell you if I did?" Fletcher looked rather affronted as he made to stand up just as someone made their way over to their table. "Excuse me"

"I called Henry" John said putting down his glass firmly on the table but not before Sherlock quickly steamrolled over him.

"Bet's off John, sorry"

"What?" John blinked as Fletcher eagerly turned back round to face them.

"Bet?"

"My plan needs darkness. We've got another half an hour of light-" Sherlock continued only to be stopped by.

"Wait, wait, what bet?"

Hook line and sinker.

"Oh, I bet John here fifty quid that you couldn't prove you'd seen the hound"

John's face dawned with comprehension though he did his best to remain as stoic as possible.

"Yeah the guys in the pub said you could"

"Well you're gonna lose your money mate" Fletcher grinned.

"Yeah?" Sherlock egged the man on. If there was one thing men like Fletcher liked it was proving themselves smarter than other men who challenged him…even though he lacked a lot of intelligence needed to spar on level with even Anderson.

"yeah…I seen it. Only about a month ago. Up at the Hollow it was foggy, mind. Couldn't make much out"

"I see. No witnesses I suppose."

"no but-"

"never are"

"No wait…there" Fletcher showed them his phone on which the black shadow of a large dog was visible amongst the green undergrowth of a forest. It was a good start…but not good enough.

Sherlock snorted. "Is that it? It's not exactly proof is it? Sorry John I win"

"Wait! Wait! That's not all" Fletcher held up a hand to stop the detective before he could bring the drink up to his face "people don't like going up there y'know…to the Hollow…it gives them a bad sort of feeling"

"Ooh is it haunted?" Sherlock hissed "Is that supposed to convince me?"

"nah don't be stupid! It's nothing like that. But I reckon there is something out there. Something from Baskerville, escaped?"

"A clone? A super dog" and with that Sherlock briefly remembered the twins watching those morning cartoons. He didn't understand what they enjoyed about the absurdity of the shows contents but given the current circumstances he supposed normal boring people rather enjoyed the idea of something fantastical and unnatural to get them away from the daily grind.

"maybe" Fletcher shrugged "I mean, God knows what they been spraying on us all these years, or putting in the water. I wouldn't trust them as far as I could spit"

"Is that the best you've got?"

Sherlock could tell that this time he'd struck gold as Fletcher's eyebrows rose again and his voice lowered.

"I had a mate once in the MOD. One weekend we were meant to go fishing, but he never showed up, well not till late. When he did, he was white as a sheet. I can see him now. 'I've seen things today Fletch' he said 'that I never want to see again. Terrible things'. He'd been sent to some secret army place. Porton Down maybe, maybe Baskerville or somewhere else, and in the labs there, the really secret labs, he said he's seen terrible things. Rats as big as dogs he said, and dogs…dogs the size of horses"

He pulled out something from the depths of his bag and Sherlock stared transfixed at the sight.

"We did say fifty?" John smirked off to the side

There on a dried cement mould…was a gigantic paw print.

* * *

 

Rebecca bit her lip as she Teddy and Tabby walked around the outskirts of Grimpen village. Sherlock and John were out at Baskerville and it was the first time she and the twins were completely on their own.

It made her feel rather…exposed…to be out here. And yet hiding in plain sight was the most logical way to be at this moment.

She took a deep breath and inhaled the beautifully clean air around herself.

It was just as she'd remembered it.

Only forty minutes more of driving

She mused

And we'd be back home in Plymouth…

She never thought it would be so tempting to just take the steering wheel of a car and just drive, away from all the madness of the recent days and back into the comfortable little life she'd once led.

A life without a mad criminal after her blood or whatever it was he wanted from her.

"Becca!" someone called.

"Hmm?" Rebecca turned to see her niece and nephew running up towards her with twinkles in their eyes. Oh this could not be good.

"Why did you agree with Uncle Sherlock called you his wife?"

"Yeah…are you starting to like him or not"

"Sherlock and I are just…friends and we need to maintain our cover story"

"But do you like him?" Tabby pressed her grin widening. "Do you like how he looks or what he's like?"

If she was being blatantly honest with herself she'd say yes. Sherlock was quirky but in his own way, that was his charm. And as far as physical looks went…

Despite herself Rebecca's cheeks became faintly dusted with pink.

A lot of Sherlock's features when isolated would be fairly odd as separate elements on other people, but when put together as they had done so with him, they created quite an unconventional but definitely handsome visage that was only further projected by the tall proud way in which he held himself.

But then again…

If she found him attractive did that mean she found Gwendolyn attractive?

That was an absolutely preposterous idea. True she didn't mind a woman's touch from time to time, though her type was usually a lot dumber and easier to get into bed. Not like Gwen...who was sharp as a tack and as shrewd as a well…shrew.

But Sherlock and Gwen were so similar, so why did she find his personality attractive?

Different gender preferences perhaps? Smart and cunning with guys but dumb and gullible with girls.

A small voice hissed at the back of her head which made her snort softly to herself.

God I sound so shallow.

And yet it did not explain the physical attraction.

Though it was true the two Holmes's were in fact remarkably similar in appearance, not like her and her sister.

The resemblance was there but it was plainer that Rebecca couldn't have been more different.

Though she was blonde haired and blue eyed, as a child she had been remarkably plain and scrawny. Her mother had always said she looked like a doll, but Rebecca couldn't help but envy her older sister who had been a total brunette bombshell, even in her teen years.

It had been five years since the two of them last met and that had been by accident one afternoon in Plymouth. It had been brief but Rebecca had seen enough to know that her sister was really successful in whatever she was doing as she'd turned up bearing some of the most expensive of clothes and luxuries that one could afford.

And look at me now; I'm standing in the middle of a big empty moor with two kids without a mother as I wait for my new and reluctant husband and his flatmate to come back from a top secret army base. Meanwhile she's off travelling the world and living it up in probably the best hotels.

She bit her lip as her phone pinged.

She looked down at the text message.

Sherlock, Henry and I are going to the Hollow. Take kids back inside before dark. We'll text if we find anything. – JW

Rebecca quickly looked up at the sky which at that moment had been stained a golden colour as the sun began to drop below the horizon line.

"Hey kids it's getting dark come on we're going back inside"

"Aww…but-"

"No buts! It's dangerous after dark here"

"But that's when all the fun stuff happens"

"Inside, now!"

They began to walk back over the grass towards the large inn behind them…not noticing the glint of metal as a pair of eyes watched from a high window. As the women and the children disappeared into the building's entrance, they put a hand to their ear.

"Target's moving into position. I'll make my move in an hour."

* * *

Rebecca sighed heavily as she slumped on her bed in the double room put aside for her and the kids. Despite how much walking she'd just done she was sore and stiff from staying in the car for so long.

She took a deep breath and just as she inhaled something clapped over her mouth.

She screamed and struggled but her voice was muffled by a wad of material that was covered in something sweet smelling.

Chloroform?

She felt her brain go fuzzy, her limbs begin to loose control, and her vision began to darken before she was shoved into the bed.

She watched with failing eyes as a dark shape moved in the direction of the twins one of which was grabbed roughly.

There was a small squeal and then darkness.

* * *

The hands of the man were gloved in rough black material that scraped against the child's wrists as he quickly dragged her through a dark wooded area.

Oh god! Aunty Becca! AUNTY! TEDDY! MUMMY! PLEASE HELP!

Tabatha struggled wildly trying to bite around the cloth gag that her kidnapper had placed over her mouth.

She could barely see anything, save the faintest glimmer of moonlight against bark where there were gaps in the leafy branches of the trees around them. The kidnapper however did not seem to need a torch. Indeed the night vision goggles over his eyes provided just enough for him to go by as he tugged the resisting child over a log.

It was a cold foggy night but he'd made sure to wrap the child in her red hooded coat. He wasn't sure why his employer had demanded she wear it but then again the man was rather eccentric.

Tabatha almost tripped when the man came to a sudden stop and looked around. In the dim light her eyes had slowly grown accustomed to using, she could see that he had a gas mask around the lower half of his face, making it completely obscured. His clothes too were jet black matte and the odour of the forest covered up whatever scent of aftershave or something he would've used.

She felt the blood in her body almost freeze.

Never in her wildest dreams would she have thought that there would come a time when her deduction skills would be completely useless.

She jumped in fright, her squeak muffled by her gag as a loud howling sound came from beyond a few trees to her left.

Then suddenly her wrists were free. She looked up as the earthy ground beneath her feet rustled and she turned round quickly.

"Wait!" She bleated pulling down her gag, but too late. Her kidnapper had darted through the bushes and out of sight into a large fog that had begun to settle amongst the trees

The howl came again, this time closer.

She looked around the clearing wild eyed.

Something began to rustle somewhere behind her.

She turned.

Two red pinpoints of light glinted in the shadows of a couple of thickets.

She began to scramble away as the pinpoints became little globes of light within a black shadowy mass.

The fog around her seemed to thicken around her with each step she took, but she didn't care.

She could hear growling and through the corner of her eye saw a massive black shape coming up by her side.

She broke out into a sprint, eyes watering and spilling over as she scrambled over a large fallen log that was in her way as the Hound let loose a large snarl from behind.

* * *

 

Sherlock and Henry had been wandering around that Hollow for a good half hour now. John had wandered off somewhere in the dark and somehow the detective found that quite unpleasant.

Sherlock quickly glanced around. Was it just him or did he hear a yell in the distance.

The dark just playing tricks.

He reasoned.

To avoid dealing with his mind palace version of Mycroft, who'd begun to sneer, he addressed a rather pale faced Henry.

"Met a friend of yours"

"What?"

"Doctor Frankland"

"Oh right, Bob, yeah" Henry looked rather relieved at the sound of the man's name.

"He seems pretty concerned about you."

"Oh he's a worrier, bless him. He's been very kind to me since I came back"

"He knew your father?"

"Yeah"

"But he works at Baskerville. Didn't your dad have a problem with that?" Sherlock quirked an eyebrow as he quickly flashed a torch into a group of trees.

"Well mates are mates aren't they" Henry shrugged "I mean, look at you, you're wife and John"

Sherlock came to a sudden stop in surprise.

"What about us?"

"Well John's a pretty straightforward bloke, you're wife's a…well…and you're a…" he faltered under the questioning look and coughed.

"Well they agreed never to talk about work, Uncle Bob and my dad"

He stopped in his tracks. "Dewer's Hollow"

Sherlock stopped beside him and looked down to where the man had pointed.

There below them was a large sunken pit in the forest floor, with three deep caves extend into one of the rock faces, allowing a degree of access for whoever it was that dared to venture in there.

Following Henry's lead, Sherlock quickly clambered down into the hollow looking around. A light fog was hanging about the area. But it was remarkably light and did not impair their vision too much so they didn't pay heed to it, instead they chose to inspect the ground with their torches.

Sherlock felt his heart leap with excitement as he caught sight of a large paw print in the dirt next to where his foot was standing. He spun around. The entire ground was littered with prints, all of them large and fresh.

So there was really a beast living in this hollow…

There was a high pitched scream and Sherlock wheeled about eyes wide just in time to hear something howled loudly from above.

The scream came again but much closer and this time he was able to recognise it.

"Someone Please! Please! HELP!"

"Tabatha!" Sherlock ran forwards as a small figure in red tumbled down the slope leading down into the hollow.

He caught the girl before she could hit the bottom. She was shivering and shaking as she sobbed with fright.

"No! NO! NO!" she shrieked when Sherlock quickly enveloped her in his arms and pulled her up to stand.

"Tabatha, Tabby it's ok. It's just me. It's me, its Sherlock alright."

Something snarled from above.

Sherlock quickly looked up and pointed his flashlight up at the large rock face above.

He redoubled his grip on Tabatha and began to drag her away from the slope as the growling stopped abruptly. His eyes widened with shock as the bushes his light was illuminating rustled as something large and dark darted into them.

Tabatha whimpered into his coat and buried her head further into his stomach just as Henry's frightened voice began to splutter.

"Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god! Did you see it?"

Sherlock didn't answer. His breathing was ragged, his heart was beating faster and harder than a rower on a sprint and his hands on his niece were shaking uncontrollably.

Sherlock knelt down to pick her up. She may have been nine but she was small for her age so it wasn't too much of a problem for him to hold her like this.

"I-I-I wanna go home!" she snivelled into his shoulder, as he carried her up and out of the hollow. Henry followed shaking like a leaf.

Sherlock however kept his grip tight on Tabatha holding her close as his brain began to hurtle ahead like a steam engine.

How did she get here? Did she follow us? No she couldn't have. Rebecca told us that she was putting her to bed an hour ago? So how did she end up here? Did someone abduct her? And that-that hound chased her…that hound…

There was a howl somewhere far off now in the distance.

He felt himself shudder. The shadow he'd seen had been massive almost bear sized, with a strange red glow not only in its eyes but around its body.

…but it couldn't have been a hound could it? It had been too dark to tell even with the flash light.

He stroked his trembling hand gently through her dark curls. Her body heat was, strangely enough, just as soothing to him as his was to her.

He heard her breathing calm down somewhat when he repeated the action several times over.

"Sherlock!" a voice called from ahead.

Sherlock looked up and sighed slightly with relief as John ran up to him, Tabatha and Henry his face white as a sheet but otherwise determined.

"Did you hear that?"

"We saw it" Henry gulped.

"no I didn't see anything" Sherlock muttered.

"What? What are you talking about?" Henry looked bewilderedly at the detective.

"I didn't see anything!" Sherlock repeated and it was true. He didn't see anything definitive, no facts, nothing logical so technically he really didn't see anything.

John opened his mouth to talk but stopped short at the sight of the little girl in his flatmate's arms.

"Oh god Tabby! Sherlock what on earth is she doing here?"

"I don't know but we need to get back to the inn as fast as possible and keep your voice down" Sherlock added in a hiss as she sobbed again into his jacket. "She's had enough terrors for one night"

John simply gaped at the detective as he proceeded to stalk past him, child in arms back towards the car muttering softly into her hair as she continued to cry.

"It-It's going to get me" she whimpered. "The h-h-hound…it's gonna get me"

"No it won't. You're safe now. I got you" he whispered softly into her curls.

"I got you"


	10. The Big Bad Wolf Of Baskerville Part 3 - Over the Rainbow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.” - Plato
> 
> Sherlock remembers what it is like to feel not just fear...but something long forgotten

It took them a good ten minutes of John driving at top speed for them to reach the inn again, though before the car had even properly parked Sherlock was opening the door.

"I'll just drive Henry back to his place" John called but his friend was already carrying a now silent but very shaky Tabatha back into the building.

When he came up to the room in which she, her brother and her carer were supposed to be staying Sherlock set her down on her feet as he quickly fumbled with the keys. Though he needn't have bothered.

He barely had the metal object touch the keyhole when the door swung open wide.

Rebecca stood there in the doorway dressed only in her favourite red and black silk dressing gown, her hair wild and her eyes wide and streaming. As soon as she saw Tabatha by Sherlock's side she knelt down and scooped the girl into her arms.

"Thank goodness! Oh thank goodness! Teddy she's here" she called back.

Teddy was at the door in a flash and soon he'd pulled his sister away from his aunt and into his own hug, though he kept silent.

Rebecca looked up her mouth open to speak only to find an empty doorway.

"Sherlock?" she leant out over the threshold just in time to see the dark hem of the long woollen coat whip around a corner.

* * *

When John came back to the Cross Keys Inn it was to find Sherlock sitting alone in one of the two armchairs by the lit fireside in the restaurant

His fingertips were pressed together as he held his hands in front of his face. He still looked rather pale and his face was tense.

"Well he's in a pretty bad way. He's manic" John sighed as he sat in the armchair opposite his friend.

"Totally convinced there's some mutant super-dog roaming the moors. But there isn't one is there? Because if people knew how to make a mutant super-dog we'd know. It'd be for sale, I mean that's how it works"

John leaned forwards and lowered his voice.

"Listen. On the moor I saw someone signalling. Morse. I guess it's Morse. But it doesn't seem to make much sense"

Sherlock inhaled roughly and rubbed his palm together but still he said nothing.

"U,M,Q,U,R,A…does that mean anything?"

Sherlock didn't respond. He simply stared out at the fire eyes strangely glazed over.

"So, ok…what have we got? We know there's footprints because Henry found them, so did the tour guide bloke…we all heard something…poor Tabby got chased by something…" John looked down at his notes in his hands unsure of what to do. Usually Sherlock would be boasting his head off about some fact or something or casting a snide comment, but there was just nothing.

"maybe we should just look for whoever's got a big dog?" he suggested half heartedly.

"Henry's right" Sherlock whispered.

"What?" John blinked.

"I-I saw it too John" Sherlock's voice was shaking a little though his gaze held steady over the fireplace

"Just-Just a minute you saw what?"

"A hound" Sherlock looked at John entire face so tense it was like he was trying to hold it from breaking apart like glass "Out there on the hollow. Right after Tabby ran into us…A. Gigantic. Hound!"

Sherlock didn't need to have genius intellect to see that John no matter what affection or loyalty he had towards him or his niece to know that he didn't believe a word of what he'd just said.

"Um look, Sherlock. We have to be rational about this. Now Tabby is a kid and she was out there all alone in a dark scary place she didn't know. But you of all people can't just…let's just stick to what we know yes? Stick to the facts"

Sherlock turned to face him with narrowed eyes.

"Once you've ruled out the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be true"

"…what does that mean" John raised his eyebrows.

Sherlock picked up the glass of whiskey in his hand, which trembled slightly as he brought it up close to his face.

"Huh?" he gave a tremulous but nonetheless scathing smirk. "Look at me John I'm afraid … afraid" he took a large sip that was more of a gulp.

"Sherlock-"

"I've always been able to keep myself distant" Sherlock took another huge swig "Divorce myself from…feelings. But look you see" he held up the almost empty glass in his still trembling fingers.

"Body's betraying me. Interesting yes? Emotions…the grit on the lens, the fly in the ointment"

"Yeah all right…Spock…Just take it easy" John eyed the liquor cautiously but there didn't seem to be any evidence to any other alcohol consumed so far.

"You've been pretty wired lately, you know you have. And I think you've just gone out there and got yourself a bit worked up"

"Worked up" Sherlock looked almost furious at the insinuation. God what did it have to take for his supposed friend to believe him?!

"It was dark and scary-" John tried to reason but Sherlock snorted derisively.

"Me?! There is nothing wrong with me"

John sighed heavily with frustration and leant back in his chair as Sherlock pressed both fingers to his temples and groaned with frustration. The sound made a couple of nearby diners turn their heads around to look at him.

"Sherlock" John muttered quietly trying his best to put his most reassuring voice on. "Sher-"

"There is nothing wrong with me do you understand?!" Sherlock cried out.

There was a silence in the entire room as every single pair of eyes turned to stare in shock at the two men.

Sherlock shrunk quickly back into the back of his chair as people shook their heads in disapproval. Not that that mattered to him, not when John was still looking at him with that annoyingly concerned frown on his face.

"You want me to prove it yes?" he scowled and when his flatmate didn't reply he proceeded to speak fast "We're looking for a dog yes? A great big dog, that's your _brilliant_ theory. Cherchez le chien! Good. Excellent. Where shall we start? How about them?"

He turned and quickly pointed out a duo sitting closeby at a table. A man in a horrid light blue and white patterned jumper along with a woman garbed in gaudy clothing and jewellery.

"The sentimental widow and her son the unemployed fisherman. The answer's yes"

"Yes?"

"She's got a west Highland Terrier called Whisky, not exactly what we're looking for"

"Sherlock for gods sake-"

Look at his jumper hardly worn. Clearly he's uncomfortable in it. Maybe its the material or probably the hideous pattern, which suggests it's a present, probably Christmas. So he walks into his mother's good books. Why? Probably money. He's treating her to a meal but his own portion is small. That means he wants to impress her but he's trying to economise his own food."

"maybe he's not hungry" John offered.

"No, small plate. Starter. He's practically licked it clean. She's nearly finished her pavlova. If she'd treated him, he'd have had as much as he wanted. He's hungry all right, and not well off - you can tell that by the state of his cuffs and shoes. _But how do you know it's his mother_?" Sherlock added in a high pitched imitation of John who scowled darkly

"Who else would give him a Christmas present like that? Well, it could be an aunt or an elder sister, but mother's more likely. Now, he was a fisherman. Scarring pattern on his hands, very distinctive - fish hooks. They're all quite old now, which suggests he's been unemployed for some time. Not much industry in this part of the world, so he's turned to his widowed mother for help. _Widowed_?" he imitated John again "Yes, obviously. She's got a man's wedding ring on a chain round her neck - clearly her late husband's and too big for her finger. She's well-dressed but her jewellery's cheap. She could afford better, but she's kept it - it's sentimental. Now, the dog: tiny little hairs all over the leg from where it gets a little bit too friendly, but no hairs above the knees, suggesting it's a small dog, probably a terrier. In fact it is - a West Highland terrier called Whisky. _How the hell do you know that, Sherlock_? 'Cause she was on the same train as us and I heard her calling its name and that's not cheating, that's listening, I use my senses, John, unlike some people, so you see, I am fine, in fact I've never been better, so just LEAVE ME ALONE!"

He ended on such a violent hiss that John shrank back a little.

"yeah…yeah…ok…" but then he added in a tone that was slightly hurt "Why would you listen to me? I'm just your friend" he shrugged.

"I don't have _friends_ " Sherlock spat.

"…no…" John muttered "I wonder why"

And with that he stood up and strode out of the room.

Sherlock stared at the fire his eyes once again glazing over.

He blew it…he absolutely blew it…

Somehow he always managed to do this with people that tried to get close to him; he managed to piss them off so badly that they'd just storm off and leave him alone. He sighed and ran a hand over his sweating face.

Well, let John storm off this time! It wasn't like it was Sherlock's problem no one believed him! If John hadn't been stupid and wandered off at the start he too would have seen the hound and he too would've gotten freaked out…or would he?

The one thing that always never ceased to surprise Sherlock about his flatmate was his strange reaction to danger. Despite the visage of a short, nice doctor, fear did not paralyse John Watson. It kick started him like a stimulant it drove his gears into action.

Not like Sherlock. He'd not felt true fear like this for a very long time, but even he was well aware he didn't have a good reaction to it when it came about. Suppression of emotions could only block out the terror so much.

He allowed his thoughts to drift upwards and his jaw clenched as the frightened screams of a child echoed eerily in his brain.

He stood up quickly and strode back to the corridor and back up the stairs until he reached the second floor.

He walked some way down the corridor and stopped when he reached his room. As he was fiddling with the keys he paused.

 

_Somewhere, over the rainbow, way up high_

_There's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby_

 

A woman was singing inside, soft and mellow over loud childish sniffles.

 

_Somewhere, over the rainbow, skies are blue_

_And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true_

 

Sherlock quietly stepped towards the door to his right which was open a small crack and peered inside.

 

_Someday I'll wish upon a star_

_And wake up where the clouds are far behind me_

_Where troubles melt like lemon drops_

_Away above the chimney tops_

_That's where you'll find me_

 

Rebecca was sitting on the edge of the double bed on one side of the room as Tabby and Teddy both curled up in the sheets.

 

_Somewhere over the rainbow, bluebirds fly_

_Birds fly over the rainbow_

_Why then, oh why can't I?_

 

From what Sherlock could see as he opened the door an inch wider, the little boy doing his best to hold onto his sister tightly in his arms as they both fell into a light slumber.

 

_If happy little bluebirds fly_

_Beyond the rainbow_

_Why, oh why, can't I?_

 

Rebecca finished softly her voice holding on the last note as the twins breathing finally slipped into deep even repetitions.

"You know you could knock" her eyebrows rose as she looked up at the door.

Sherlock stepped into the room, unperturbed at being discovered.

"That was lovely" he stated his voice strangely hoarse and strangled.

Damn it. The shock was still taking long to wear off, but thankfully Rebecca didn't seem to notice it.

"Oh that…" She smiled shyly as she turned her head down to hide the blush creeping over her cheeks. "When I was a kid I used to love the Wizard of Oz and I'd just watch that scene over and over again just to listen to that song. It's probably the only one I'm good at singing"

"I seriously doubt that" Sherlock muttered avoiding her eye.

"Thanks" her blush became slightly  
deeper.

"What's with that" Sherlock frowned in confusion as he pointed to her cheeks.

"With what?"

"That, that blushing"

"Oh!" Rebecca turned if possible a shade darker "this is…. I don't usually sing that often in front of people and well…considering that you play that violin of yours so well it's just… I'm…just embarrassed I guess…" She bit her lip and trailed off.

"You shouldn't be embarrassed." Sherlock's frown deepened. "In my experience if you have a remarkable gift, you should time to refine it then show off more"

"Yeah well…easy for you to say" she snorted a little under her breath "you've got this fantastic brain in your head that works better than the finest Ferrari. I'm just a shop owner from Plymouth who spends her days trying to comfort two upset kids and gaining three pounds on her fat arse"

"Your arse is nowhere near fat! Never has been and never will be…well unless you start eating like a pig." Sherlock stepped into the room completely and slowly made to sit on the opposite bed opposite Rebecca who frowned in confusion.

"I've been monitoring your health in comparison to the twins. Despite your genetic pre-disposition to fat distribution, namely around your hips and your chest you have a high metabolism. You rarely drink, you don't ever smoke. But ever since you came to live at Baker Street you've cut down your portions to about half. Your sleep patterns too, started off regular but recently you've taken to pacing around until two or three in the morning before waking up early at six. As a result you've actually lost a good four pounds and counting if your meals today were anything to go by. It will be a long time before you reach a really skeletal state but I am telling you now that if you lose any more you will get not only malnourished but also anaemic and sick"

Rebecca stared at Sherlock with dumbfound amazement. It had been the first time since Moriarty's phone call that he actually sounded really worried about her. Though in a way her cynical side was kind of jeering at him, because he himself was being rather hypocritical, especially now.

She looked closer at him she saw to her slight alarm that his face was extremely gaunt and pale…almost the colour of chalk. His brow was drenched with sweat and his curls were extremely haphazard falling in the way of his face drawing attention to his rather wide, staring, almost unblinking gaze.

"Sherlock…"

"What?" he snapped noticing that her face was looking as worried as John's as she darted over to sit next to him.

"Sherlock what happened?" she reached out to touch his arm.

"Nothing happened!" he hissed turning his head away from her. He'd already turned John away, it wouldn't hurt to do it again with Rebecca…

…Or would it?

He took a deep shuddering breath through his nose, before replying in a low rumble.

"Nothing is wrong with me"

"I never said there was" Rebecca said patiently as she took hold of his cheek in one of her hands to turn his face round to look back at hers. "What _happened_ out there?"

 _Damn it's almost worse than my mother's_ _face_

He mentally scowled. There was something about the way those deep green blue orbs shone with worry that made him feel rather guilty about his earlier behaviour.

"Henry and I had arrived at the hollow…" Sherlock breathed his eyes darting down into his lap "we were looking around trying to find clues about what he might have seen."

"And did you find anything?" Rebecca asked as she smoothed away the curls from his face almost absentmindedly.

"We spotted paw prints on the forest floor"

"How big were they?"

"They were huge" Sherlock shut his eyes "bigger than most of what I've seen. Then we heard a howl and a scream…Tabby's scream"

Rebecca's fingers stiffened but Sherlock kept his tone as steady as he could.

"She stumbled into us and then…then…it came…the hound…"

"What was it like?" Rebecca's voice was barely more than a whisper.

"It was only a glimpse…but it was… massive" Sherlock shuddered "Massive and dark like a shadow but only it wasn't one. its eyes were glowing, no it's whole body was glowing red."

"Did it hurt you?"

He shook his head vigorously as Rebecca placed another gentle hand on his other cheek and took a deep breath.

"It left us alone. It didn't like the flashlights…but it was there Becca. I swear to you I don't know how and I don't know why but it was there this…this beast…"

He shut his eyes.

There now he sounded like an absolute madman.

His eyes flew open in surprise when he felt Rebecca's arms wrap around his neck and pull him into her. His whole body tensed up in surprise as one of her hands made to stroke through the curls on the back of his neck.

Deep in his mind palace, his mental Mycroft was trying its best to _"fix the brain and body connection"_ so that Sherlock could do the sensible thing and shove the sentimental woman off him.

However for the first time in his life…he was totally unsure about whether he wanted to obey his brain or not…

It had been a long time since someone had openly hugged him like this.

Tabby's grip on him back at the hollow didn't count as he'd technically been carrying her and she was frightened and he knew that if she was in her right frame of mind she would've been more likely to latch onto John.

But Rebecca was totally herself and seemed to be in such an absolute state of calm, which somehow managed to flow from her body into his.

He just sat there blankly; his hands by his sides until finally a small part of his brain spoke in a woman's voice, not his mother's maternal tone but a soft mellow much younger voice.

 _"That's right you know what to do here don't you? Don't you?"_ Gwendolyn's voice faltered for a moment and he was sure that if she were to materialise in front of him now she'd be face palming _"Oh for Christ's sake Sherly! We used to do this all the time! Don't tell me you've forgotten?"_

He hadn't.

His arms trembled still as he carefully made to pull his arms around Rebecca's body.

He couldn't exactly label what it was, but there was something about the way she felt against him that made his mind feel…blank…but in a strange good way

"You believe me?" he murmured into her hair.

"Of course I believe you…" she smiled. "Do you think I'd be trying to comfort you like this if I didn't?"

"No…I suppose not…"

Sherlock murmured as he buried his face into the crook of her neck. He couldn't bear to look into that face of hers any longer. She just looked too sincere…to caring…and it was all too much for his brain to process

_Must be all that nurturing she does…maternal instincts are strong_

But somehow that observation made him feel a whole lot worse. His mother at least had some duty to him as one of his primary carers in his youth to be worried about him.

However Rebecca wasn't his relative, she was his … wife…no not wife, just his flatmate who he just so happened to be legally married to.

To say that she was his wife would imply that he felt affectionate sentiment towards her and that just could not be. Besides she was his little sister's best friend and god forbid they started a relationship that ended in tears. He knew Gwendolyn would never forgive him, and neither would the twins.

Strangely enough he had no trouble acknowledging his slowly growing affection for the two bundles of energy currently curled up on the bed opposite him, and it wasn't because of the gifts they bore. For the first time in Sherlock's life there were children around him that weren't afraid of his peculiarities and not just one but two! And they both were of his own flesh and blood!

Rebecca winced as Sherlock's grip on her tightened slightly as a new bout of terror swept through him.

"Sherlock-"

"Why?..." he whispered. "Why Tabby? Why did the kidnapper pick her and only her?"

"What?" Rebecca breathed as Sherlock pulled away muttering.

"Of course…" he scrambled over to the trunks by the feet of the bed and grabbed the red coat his niece had worn. He began to quickly dig his hands all over it trying to feel for something.

Rebecca watched standing up slowly as Sherlock froze his hand deep inside the right outer pocket.

"Paper," he muttered slowly pulling out his hand. Rebecca almost felt her heart stop in her chest. It was a torn out page from a book old and a little yellowed but approximately close to A5 size. She caught a glimpse of red ink.

"Sherlock…" her voice trembled as did her entire body as Sherlock turned the page over for her to see an illustration. In the middle of a forest a silhouette of a gigantic canine creature was drawn in black ink amongst the shadows of a tree as a little girl ran down a little path.

A little girl in a bright red hooded cloak.

* * *

_PING!_

A blonde haired blue eyed man in a business suit swiped his phone screen to view the text.

 _Little Red Riding Hood got lost in the forest like planned. Even Wolfie was eager to meet her. But the Second Musketeer saved her and frightened poor wolfie away_ _:( – M_

The man's eyes narrowed as he deftly typed up a reply.

_He seems to be interfering a lot more than our original calculations. If he keeps going on we'll have no choice but to do away with him once and for all– A.T_

A reply came within minutes.

_Kill him now and he'll become a hero. To really get revenge we must discredit and tear down everything he and his siblings stand for. Starting with his own little world – M_

_What steps do you suppose should we take? – A.T._

_I'm so glad you asked :)_ _\- M_

* * *

John Watson sighed as he walked up the stairs of the inn.

Tonight had been one of the worst night's he'd ever had.

First he'd had to track his way through a terrifying hollow with a stray beast roaming around. Then he'd argued with that goddamn infuriating friend of his (no matter how much Sherlock denied it). Then that Morse code he'd thought was being sent had actually been a car's headlights flickering on and off as its two occupants had it off in the front seat.

And then to top it all off he'd just obeyed said friend's request and tried to wheedle information out of Henry Knight's rather cute psychiatrist only for that scientist from Baskerville to ruin it all.

He heaved a huge sigh

Life just wasn't fair.

He came up to the second floor and stopped at the landing.

Maybe he should talk to Rebecca see what she had to say about all this, god knows he needed a woman who he could just sit and talk to without her shoving him off.

He reached her doorway only to find that it was open just a crack and that there were two voices talking inside.

"Apart from being scared by a phantom hound are you ok?" Rebecca said softly.

"Yes" Sherlock's voice answered her, it sounded a little hoarse. "What about you? What happened after Tabby was kidnapped?"

John silently peeked through the gap in the door and his eyes widened in shock. There they were his two flatmates, both wrapped up in a tight embrace, Sherlock burying his head in her hair as Rebecca leant gently against his shoulder.

"I woke up…probably half an hour before you came back with her. She wasn't there. I wanted to try and go after her but Teddy just woke up and he was so terrified and I couldn't just leave him in that"

John backed away from the door and quietly as he could stepped over to his and Sherlock's room. No…it was probably just going to be his room for tonight. Sherlock looked pretty cosy snuggling up to his nice little wife there.

John scowled bitterly as he shut the door and sat down on his bed.

Ever since he had come back from Afghanistan he'd been trying for so long to find someone to settle down with. He knew that what Mycroft had said about him missing the dangers of war was completely true, but even so he was still human, and he still wanted some semblance of a normal life with a wife and kids.

It just seemed so unfair that his best friend should suddenly get all those things and not him.

_Now I'm just being childish_

He thought as he ran a hand over his face.

_He's my friend, I should be happy for him._

And he would have been, had it not been for those four words rattling in his brain.

_"I don't have **friends** "_

* * *

It was early morning but Rebecca was finding it difficult to sleep. It was not only the revelation of that accursed illustration that was worrying her but also Sherlock had decided for their safety's sake he'd stay in their room for the night. And as obviously the twins were already settled in their bed that left only one logical option.

Rebecca tried to shut her eyes but one couldn't help but flutter open when she felt something warm press against her back. She turned her body slowly and was met with a wall of bare skin.

"…Sherlock"

"hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

She blushed as she saw his bare chest expand and contract against her as Sherlock sighed heavily.

"It's cold and don't have my extra blanket so I'm making do"

His voice was even lower than normal, and that was saying something considering he already had a rather low timbre.

"By using me instead?" She raised her eyebrows up at him.

"Don't worry; you are more than adequate for the job"

"You could've put your shirt back on?"

"But this is more comfortable…well more comfortable to me…you seem to be rather excited"

"Ex-what!"

She spluttered He gave her a lazy smirk as he leaned in to whisper into her ear.

"Elevated heart rate, dilating pupils, flushed skin." He pulled back and saw that her blush had gone even deeper than before. "I would continue to list all the other factors but I'm afraid you wouldn't be pleased with that intrusion…at least not now…"

Her face was positively incensed by now. God! For a supposed genius he did have a rather childish way of poking fun at others.

"I don't know what you're high on Sherlock but this is not…funny…" her voice trailed off and her face suddenly became rather blank.

"Becca?"

"Sherlock…" Rebecca finally looked back up at him her green blue eyes shining "do you remember what you told me about the hound last night."

"What about it?" Sherlock looked rather taken aback. She had that look on her face, what would have been in normal circumstances his " _aha_ "-brilliant brainwave moment, but this time he was on the other end waiting for her to reveal herself. It was unnerving.

"You said that you couldn't have seen something that unnatural but yet you did"

"So?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"So…" Rebecca bit her lip "it kind of sounds like you were having a hallucination…No! Please, please listen before you get mad with me!" she quickly stuttered as Sherlock's face contorted with anger.

"I'm not saying I don't believe you because I totally do but I'm just saying…a normal dog _doesn't_ glow. But what if there was something that _made_ you see the hound like how you did."

"Made me see it?" Sherlock sat up as did Rebecca who kept her eyes to the sheets in her hands to avoid looking at Sherlock's half-dressed state.

"Yeah…I mean like a substance. I mean you and John were around Baskerville's testing facilities all day yesterday and Henry had lived here sufficiently to get exposed to something."

"And what of Tabby?" Sherlock glanced over to the still sleeping twins on the other bed "She never went to Baskerville and yet she saw the hound."

"She's a child and she'd just been kidnapped by a stranger and dragged off into a dark cold forest in the middle of the night. Brilliant brain or not she was frightened and if there was a dog out there she might have seen it and imagined the worst. But she didn't see a glow like you did; only a massive black dog with red eyes. Now the eyes were probably because of the moonlight refracting off the dogs lenses, but _you_ Sherlock. You said you saw it glowing and that it was bigger than a bear. What if you had something you'd ingested into your systems like an intense Hallucinogen that made it seem like that in your eyes?"

There was silence as Sherlock stared at her in surprise.

"Becca…that is…"

Rebecca waited for the insult to come.

"…brilliant…Absolutely brilliant!"

Sherlock's face split at once into sudden wonderment and delight.

"Sherlock!" she squeaked in alarm as he reached out to grasp at her head in both hands before kissing her forehead hard. Before she could exclaim another word however he had jumped out of the bed and was tugging on his arms of his shirt.

"Wake them up and get dressed and then meet me down stairs at the tables outside" he called quickly as Teddy sat up in bed rubbing his eyes.

"Aunty?" he mumbled as Sherlock quickly rushed out of the room pulling on his scarf and coat "What's Uncle Sherlock doing?"

"I have absolutely no clue" Rebecca stared wide eyed at the now closed door.

* * *

"Did you get anything?"

Rebecca called out as Sherlock strode down the village lane towards her as she leant against the metal gate that surrounded the church and the little cemetery around it.

"I did. But there's still a couple of things I need to sort out. Where are Teddy and Tabby?" he looked around and Rebecca could've sworn she saw a hint of worry in his eyes.

She smiled.

"They're in there. Perfectly safe I assure you" she jerked her head towards the cemetery where the distinctive blond head of John Watson was poking out from above a tall grey headstone close by. He was smiling as he showed the two twins that sat on either side of him the piece of paper in his hands.

Sherlock looked at Rebecca with raised eyebrow and her smile widened at the silent request

"I'll get you two some quiet time shall I?"

She placed her hand on the gate handle but a large hand grabbed her shoulder.

"Thank you Becca," Sherlock murmured.

"No problem Sherlock" She clumsily patted his hand, which quickly made to open the gate for her.

They both entered the cemetery.

"Hey Aunty Becca, Uncle Sherlock!" Teddy called. Tabby waved and grinned particularly wide at Sherlock who gave her a small smile in return, though inwardly his stomach was churning uncomfortably

She was once again wearing that red coat over her.

John looked up and whatever smile he had on his face fell at once at the sight of the man and woman walking towards him.

Rebecca bit her lip nervously but tried to give her best smile. It looked a little like she had toothache.

"Hey Tabby, Teddy you hungry yet? We can go get breakfast back at the inn!"

"Can we have the pancakes?" Teddy's eyes grew wide and Tabby nodded.

"With maple syrup and ice cream?!"

"And Chocolate milkshake?!"

"Of course" Rebecca smiled.

_Hook, line and sinker!_

The twins followed her at once, the prospect of eating much more enticing then a piece of paper. They were so excited that they did not notice the tenseness between the two men they were leaving behind.

Sherlock shoved his hands in his coat pockets.

"Did you get anywhere with that Morse code" he spoke as lightly as he could but his jaw still felt rather stiff.

"Nah" John shrugged before getting up and walking to the path.

"U, M, Q, R, A wasn't it? Umqra" Sherlock muttered under his breath as he tried to get the pronunciation right.

"Nothing" John sighed as his flatmate tried to say it again "look forget it. it thought I was onto something, I wasn't"

"Sure?"

"Yeah" John quickened his pace. Sherlock lengthened his stride, not so difficult since he was tall enough.

"How about Louise Mortimer did you get anywhere with her?"

"No" John scowled

"Too bad" Sherlock smirked "Did you get any information?"

"You're being funny now?" John snorted as he turned back to look at him.

"Thought I might break the ice…a bit" Sherlock admitted shrugging

"Funny doesn't suit you. Let's stick to ice"

"…John" Sherlock gulped. Apologise…it was easier said then done.

John seemed to know what he was thinking because he muttered.

"it's fine"

"No wait, something happened to me last night, something I've not really experienced before"

"Yes, you said. Fear." John nodded "Sherlock Holmes got scared, you said."

"No John it was more than that" Sherlock grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him round stopping him in his tracks "It was doubt. I felt _doubt._ I've always been able to trust my senses the evidence of my own eyes, until last night."

"You can't actually believe that you saw some kind of monster?" John shook his head.

"No I can't believe that" Sherlock agreed "but I did see it so the question is _how_? How?"

John frowned a little.

"Yes…Yeah right good" he coughed a little "So you've got something to go on then. Good luck with that"

He turned his back on Sherlock who's shoulders drooped as he called out a little desperately.

"Listen, what I said before John, I meant it. I don't have friends. I've just got one." John stopped in his tracks and turned around to look at Sherlock with a raised eyebrow.

"…right…"

He turned back around and began walking off again down the path, missing the look of wonderment cross across Sherlock's face.

"John! JOHN! You are amazing! You are fantastic!"

"Yes alright, you don't have to overdo it" But John was smirking amusedly to himself as Sherlock ran up to walk in front of him backwards so that they could talk face to face. they were approaching the inn now.

"you may not be the most luminous of people, but as a conductor of light you are unbeatable"

"Cheers! WHAT?" John shook out his head to clear it as Sherlock continued to ramble as he wrote something down in his little notebook from his pocket.

"Some people who aren't geniuses have an amazing ability to stimulate it in others"

"Hang on, you were saying sorry a minute ago, don't spoil it. Go on, what have I done that's so bloody stimulating?"

Sherlock stopped and showed him the paper in his hand on which the word "Hound" was written in all caps.

"yeah?" John tilted his head.

"What if it's not a word." Sherlock said earnestly "What if it is individual letters?"

"You think its an acronym?"

"Absolutely no idea but-"

Sherlock stopped in his tracks as he looked through the inns open door into the pub, where Rebecca was standing by the bar right next to a man with greying hair.

Sherlock didn't know why but he felt his blood almost boil when he caught sight of her laughing at something the other man said.

John caught sight of the detective's wrathful face but before he could stop him Sherlock was already storming inside.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" he snarled as the man straightened up.

"Oh nice to see you too" he rolled his eyes from behind his shades "I'm on holiday would you believe?"

"No I wouldn't" Sherlock snapped as he made to stand by Rebecca's side, just as John came in.

"Hey John"

"Greg" John smiled, before going to sit by the twins who were seated at a table close by. They had looked up to watch the scene with interest smirking amusedly.

"You guys know each other?" Rebecca looked around at all three grown men in confusion.

"Rebecca this is Detective Inspector Lestrade, we help him with cases back in London. Lestrade, this is my _wife_ Rebecca"

John noticed with a slight smirk that Sherlock had stressed the word wife rather strenuously.

But if he expected the DI to be surprised he was sorely mistaken.

"Ah… So the Rebecca, Mrs Hudson told me about." Lestrade reached out to shake her hand firmly, before smirking up at Sherlock "so that must mean these two are your niece and nephew" he looked over at Teddy and Tabby who were still eating.

His eyebrows rose.

_Jesus Christ he has a mini clone army now!_

He exchanged a look with John who nodded before coughing as Sherlock's sharp gaze snapped upon them.

"So I heard you were in the area" Lestrade said lightly as he put away his shades into his pocket. "What are you up to? Are you after this Hound of Hell like on the telly?"

"I'm waiting for an explanation Inspector, why are you here?" Sherlock's eyes narrowed if possible even more.

"I've told you I'm on holiday"

"You're brown as a nut! You're clearly just back from your holidays!"

"Maybe I fancied another one" Lestrade shrugged but the detective just rolled his eyes.

"Oh this is Mycroft isn't it? Of course it is" he steamrolled over the other man's indignant splutters "One mention of Baskerville and he sends my _handler_ to spy on me incognito. Is that why you're calling yourself Greg?"

He snorted loudly but John frowned.

"Uh…that's his name"

"Is it?" Sherlock looked around confusedly.

Rebecca held in her laughter as the twins just burst out giggling over their plates.

"Yes" Lestrade hissed "If you'd ever bothered to find out. Look I'm not your handler…and I don't just do what your brother tells me"

"Actually, you could be just the man we want" John stood up and rummaged around in his pockets.

"Why?" Sherlock tilted his head a little.

"Well I've not been idle Sherlock. I think I might've found something" he pulled out a piece of paper that looked like a receipt of some kind. "Here. I didn't know if it was relevant but it's starting to look like it might be"

He held it out for all of them to see.

"Now that is an awful lot of meat for a vegetarian restaurant"

"Excellent" Sherlock sounded rather impressed.

"Ah… and a nice scary inspector from the Yard who can put in a few calls would definitely come in very handy." John smirked up at Lestrade who looked a bit unnerved as Sherlock's face split with sudden recognition.

Rebecca meanwhile turned to the counter and rung the bell on top.

A waiter, the same young man in fact who'd served them lunch the day before, strode forwards through the kitchen doors. He stopped and blushed as soon as he saw Rebecca smiling at him sweetly.

"Sorry to disturb you, but could you get Gary and Billy to come over here. We need to talk to them urgently"

"Yes right away miss" the boy scarpered off quickly.

"Well that was fast" Rebecca turned back to look at the three men who were staring at her with raised eyebrows "What?"

"I'll say this for your brother Sherlock" Lestrade muttered "He really knows how to pick 'em"

%MCEPASTEBIN%


	11. The Big Bad Wolf of Baskerville Part 4 - What's the Time Mr. Wolf?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mystery of the monster of the moor is revealed...but not everything is as it seems.

There was a tense silence as DI Lestrade flipped through the accounts of the innkeepers Gary and Billy who sat there looking rather like they were either going to puke, going to faint, or do both at the same time.

Rebecca smirked as she began to stir the two cups of coffee at the machine on the other side of the counter when Sherlock came up beside her.

"Which one's John's" he murmured under his breath.

"This one" Rebecca quietly slipped him the cup on the left.

As he took it from her she sighed softly.

"What?" he quirked a brow.

"Nothing" but she bit her lip.

"It doesn't look like nothing" his brows furrowed in concentration as he poured some white grains from a clear plastic packet into the drink in his hand.

Rebecca looked at it.

"It's just that…You making coffee? Not exactly something that's normal"

"Are you saying that I can't do normal things?"

"Maybe! Maybe not" she said lightly.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Sherlock hissed.

"You're the people reader you tell me" she smirked cheekily. "Oh wait that's right. You can't read me. So sorry I guess you'll never know"

Sherlock scowled and put down the cup before slipping both his hands on her waist. She stiffened as she felt his lips graze the back of her ear.

"Tease me all you like, you know I'll do whatever it takes to rectify this malfunction"

"I'd like to see you try" she whispered before stepping away from him with her coffee cup in hand. He was still staring at her with both his hands outstretched and hanging at points where he'd held her.

She took a slow deliberate sip with her red painted lips, looking up at him with round _innocent_ blue green eyes.

…Where had he seen that look before?

"Now…Don't you have coffee to deliver to John?"

Sherlock blinked.

"Coffee…John…right" he quickly bustled off with his cup of coffee trying to look anywhere but at the woman who kept her now narrowed eyes on him.

"What's this?" John frowned as Sherlock handed him he full cup.

"Coffee. I made coffee" Sherlock explained.

"You never make coffee" John raised his eyebrows.

"Well I just did, don't you want it?" Sherlock's face fell slightly.

"You don't have to keep apologising" John assured him but paused at the sad pout that crossed his friends face.

"Thanks" he took the cup quickly and Sherlock looked very relieved. But it was short lived when John grimaced.

God it was horridly sweet.

"Hmm…I don't take sugar"

Rebecca grinned as she took a sip of her own coffee, watching Sherlock turn on the sad kicked puppy face that his nephew Teddy often wore when he didn't get to stay up late.

John looked rather guilty and quickly drained his cup before mumbling.

"hmm…yes good" before setting it down on a table and walking back off to check up on the twins who were starting to look bored.

"Well that went well" Rebecca sidled up to Sherlock who fixed her with a pointed look.

"What?" she pouted all too innocently "it did go well" she jerked her head towards Lestrade as he thudded the accounts book hard on the table, making both Gary and Billy jump a little.

Sherlock smirked down at her. He'd always thought that the twins had gotten their sassiness from Gwendolyn but now that he spent more time with the woman by his side he realised just how much of an influence she had over them. She wasn't really just their aunt…she was their second mother…a second mother with a remarkably cheeky tongue on her.

"These records go back nearly two months" Lestrade narrowed his eyes at the two men in front of him who both looked rather sheepish. "Is that when you had the idea? After the TV show went out?"

"It's me" Billy blurted out "It was me"

_Like hell it was_

Rebecca smirked under her breath as the man turned to his partner.

"I'm sorry Gary. I couldn't help it I had a bacon sandwich at Cal's wedding and one thing led to another-"

"Nice try" Lestrade cut across him firmly much to the shared amusement of the detective, the psychologist and the doctor standing in the background.

"Look." Gary sighed heavily "We were just trying to give things a bit of a boost, you know? Let a great big dog run wild up on the moor. It was heaven sent. It was like us having our own Loch Ness Monster"

"And where do you keep it?"

"There's an old mine shaft. Not to far. He was alright there-"

"Was?" Sherlock's eyes narrowed.

"Ay, we couldn't control the bloody thing." Gary groaned "It was vicious, and then…a month ago Billy took him to the vet and … you know…" he trailed off.

"It's dead" John asked.

"Put down" Gary nodded.

"Yeah…no choice" Billy added "So it's over"

"It was just joke y'know"

"yeah _hilarious_ " Lestrade said sarcasm dripping off every syllable before getting to his feet and growling out "You've nearly driven a man out of his mind!"

He quickly strode towards the exit and John followed him.

"You know he's actually pleased you're here" he said quickly glancing back to make sure Sherlock wasn't within earshot. "Secretly pleased"

"Is he?" Lestrade looked surprised "That's nice. I suppose he likes having all the same faces back together. Appeals to his…his…"

"Asperger's?" John suggested. They both chuckled though Lestrade quickly mastered himself.

"So tell me" he leant in to mutter quietly "what's she like?"

"What you mean Becca?" John blinked.

"Yeah I mean is she normal like us or is she… like _him_?" He jerked his head at the door to the inn.

"She's fairly normal; it's the kids that are more like him though …Why do you ask?" John asked warily.

"Nothing, but…I don't know whether you noticed but when I was looking through the books they were getting a bit cosy y'know back there" Lestrade looked a bit uncomfortable and so did John who muttered.

"Yeah…I'm not sure about that either. It only started to happen recently…why is there something wrong?"

Lestrade gave him a look. "No, no… it's just…you know how many girls have tried their luck with him and usually he just fobs them off right?"

"Yeah?" John looked puzzled.

"Well it's just that now I see them, he's the one doing most of the chasing."

"Yeah so?"

"Well do you think he actually… _fancies_ her?"

"How the hell should I know?!" John shrugged shaking his head. "It's Sherlock how will we _ever_ know what goes on in his head?"

"…fair point" Lestrade huffed. "I just never thought she'd be his type?"

"Really what did you think would be his type?" John asked in genuine curiosity.

"Well the boys at the Yard think he'd just drink enough of Mrs Hudson's tea and he'd just split apart into a carbon copy of-" but he quickly dropped off as he caught sight of a familiar silhouette appearing at the doorway to the inn.

John quickly composed himself into what he thought was a dignified solemnity.

"So you believe them about having the dog destroyed" Lestrade coughed.

"No reason not to" Sherlock nodded.

"Well hopefully there's no harm done. I'm not quite sure what I'd charge them with anyway. I'll have a word with the local force."

He was relieved when both John and Sherlock nodded at him.

"Right, that's that then. Catch you later. I'm enjoying this. It's nice to get London out of your lungs. Nice to meet you Rebecca, you and your mini-holmes" he grinned and waved as Rebecca followed with the twins in toe out the front door.

"Nice to meet you too" she smiled and waved back.

Sherlock scowled at the sight and John was about to open his mouth when he shot him a rather dirty look.

John quickly changed tack at once.

"So that was their dog that people saw out on the moor?"

"Looks like it" Sherlock agreed rather quickly.

"But that wasn't what you saw. That wasn't just an ordinary dog" John frowned.

"No. It was immense" despite his initial state of calm Sherlock's body now tensed at the memory "It had burning red eyes and it was glowing John. It's whole body was…glowing…"

As John looked down at the ground in thought Sherlock quickly caught Rebecca's eye and she nodded.

He quickly turned to walk away.

"I've got a theory but I need to get back into Baskerville to test it."

"How? We can't pull off the same trick from before…can we?" John looked around in confusion.

"Maybe we can" Rebecca smirked as she led Teddy and Tabby so that they were level with him and Sherlock who flicked out his phone and dialled a number.

"You're all coming with us?" John frowned, but Sherlock quickly grabbed him by the arm and hissed.

"John last night someone kidnapped Tabby just to make a fairy tale come true. What's to say they won't come back to finish the job?" he shoved a piece of paper under his nose.

"Fairy tale what? Oh…" John looked down at the page from Little Red Riding Hood. "Oh god…just because she had her red coat, they dumped her… that's just… sick…"

He looked back up at Sherlock his face determined though a little bit uneasy.

"If you can pull this ID thing off for all of us this will be a bloody miracle"

"Might not have to" Sherlock grinned as he pressed the call button on his phone.

"Hello brother dear. How are you?"

* * *

"Shh…quiet Teddy" Tabby hissed as her brother giggled.

"I'm sorry but this is just too good"

"No it's not!" Tabby frowned "it's scary that's what it is!"

Rebecca looked at Sherlock with raised eyebrows.

"Please don't tell me this is what you and Gwen were like as kids?"

"We weren't" Sherlock smirked and just as she relaxed he hissed "we were worse."

They four of them were waiting by the surveillance equipment on the upper floor and watching a group of small screens on which the black and white image of John was darting across labs in terror.

Sherlock was holding his nephew's i-pod in front of the loud speaker whilst his other hand was on his phone hovering over the call button.

"Ok he's in a hiding place" Rebecca whispered.

Sherlock pressed the call button.

They waited with bated breath as John quickly picked up and began to whisper frantically on the loudspeaker.

"It's here. It's in here with me"

Rebecca felt rather guilty. Poor John. It must've been absolutely terrifying for him being all alone down there.

"Where are you?" Sherlock asked sounding as concerned as he could though it was difficult.

"Get me out, Sherlock. You've got to get me out! The big lab, the first lab that we saw"

Sherlock put the growling I pod next to the loud speaker microphone and there was a tiny squeak of surprise from John's end.

"John…John?"

"Now Sherlock please!"

"Alright I'll find you, keep talking" He had to resist the urge to laugh like his nephew was doing right now.

But then he caught sight of Rebecca's face. She looked rather stern as she pointed out Tabatha to him. She looked rather pale and horrified at what she was seeing. The smile wiped off his face at once as he felt a fresh wave of guilt hit his stomach.

She'd had just the same thing happen to her last night, and hearing John like this seemed to really have upset her.

He stood up and walked over to the young girl.

"I'll get him out of there now" he reached out to touch her shoulder gently but she shrugged him off roughly.

"Doesn't stop it from being mean in the first place"

"I know…you're right" Sherlock patted her head of dark curls clumsily in one hand before striding out the door.

* * *

"I can see it" John gulped as he saw the dark silhouette of a beast outside the covered cage he was hiding in. His heart was racing in his chest; he was sweating from head to toe and he was sure he was going to wet his pants soon if he continued to shake any longer.

It was worse than any terror he'd faced when on that battlefield.

"I can see it…it's here…"

"John!" Sherlock's cry pierced through everything as the cover over the cage was flown off in one swift movement.

John winced as suddenly the bright white light of the now fully lit ceiling lights above them glared down into his eyes disorienting him.

"Are you alright? John?" Sherlock quickly leant down to help up his friend who cried out in terrified shock.

"Jesus Christ! It was the Hound!" he quickly got to his feet and scrambled away.

"Sherlock, it was here I swear it! Sherlock it must-it must- Did-did you see it? You must have!"

"It's alright, it's ok now" Sherlock said quietly but John yelled out loudly.

"NO IT'S NOT! IT'S NOT OK! I SAW IT I WAS WRONG!"

"hmm…well let's not jump to conclusions" Sherlock couldn't help the smug smirk that flitted across his face.

"What?" John breathed desperately looking up at his friend who raised his eyebrows.

"What did you see?"

"I told you, I saw a hound?"

"Huge, red eyes?"

"Yes"

"Glowing?"

"Yes"

"No" Sherlock looked rather triumphant now and John looked rather confused.

"I made up the bit about glowing" the detective explained "you saw what you expected to see because I told you. Becca was right, you have been drugged, we have all been drugged!"

"Drugged?" John panted.

"Can you walk?" Sherlock took a step forwards as John heaved a really heavy sigh.

"Of course I can walk"

"Well come on then. It's time to lay this ghost"

They walked back into one of the corridors that led to the main lab and down it for a few meters before Sherlock abruptly opened one without knocking.

A woman with short blonde hair and wearing a white lab coat was standing behind a metal table with a white rabbit in front of her.

"Oh back again? What's on your mind this time?" she looked sceptically at Sherlock who glowered at her.

"Murder doctor Stapleton. Refined cold blooded murder" he flicked the switch to the room lights. Everything went dark at once. Everything save the white rabbit on the table.

Only now it wasn't white. It was glowing a strange green.

John stared at the strange anomaly even long after, Sherlock had flicked the switch again and the room turned back to normal.

"Will you tell little Kirsty what happened to Bluebell or shall I?"

"…What do you want?" Dr Stapleton bit her lip.

"Can I borrow your microscope?"

* * *

Rebecca sighed heavily as she stretched out her legs to get rid of the pins and needles. She'd been stuck in this lab for almost an hour or two. John and Dr Stapleton were talking aside to each other in low voices and she was trying her best to keep Tabby and Teddy occupied, which was proving to become more difficult by the minute as they were getting bored with the games on their I pods and were starting to eye the lab equipment around them as if they were in a candy store and spoilt for choice.

Rebecca tried to amuse herself by watching as Sherlock examined what was probably mineral compound number hundred and ninety three, under the lens of a slender microscope.

A vein in his temple was ticking and she looked down on her watch.

_Any moment now… three…two…one and…_

"It's not there!" he growled flinging the petri-dish across the room where it smashed somewhere on the floor.

"Jesus!" John jumped to his feet in surprise.

"Nothing there! It doesn't make any sense" Sherlock groaned in frustration.

"What were you expecting to find?" Dr Stapleton cut across him using her best soothing voice, which wasn't nearly as good as Rebecca's but Sherlock made what he could of it.

"A drug of course! It has to be a drug. A hallucinogenic or a deliriant of some kind."

"And there was nothing in the sugar?" Rebecca frowned.

"Sugar?" John looked at her in confusion.

"Sugar yes." Sherlock sighed in exasperation "A simple process of elimination. I saw the hound; saw it as my own imagination expected me to see it. A genetically engineered monster. I knew I couldn't believe my eyes, so there were seven possible reasons for it, the most possible being narcotics. Henry Knight and Tabby both saw it too but you didn't John. You didn't see it and we have eaten and drunk exactly the same things since we got to Grimpen apart from one thing! You don't take sugar in your coffee."

"I see…So?" John raised his eyebrows.

"I took it from Henry's kitchen, his sugar…but it's perfectly alright" Sherlock slammed his palm down on the desk where the microscope was set up.

"But maybe it's not a drug?"

"No it has to be a drug!" Sherlock cried out as he brought his hands up to his temples.

"But how did it get into our systems?" Tabby cried out suddenly. Sherlock looked up at her a little surprised to see her face looking so worried. "How Uncle Sherlock?!"

She always seemed such an energetic and happy child so seeing her so serious and sad was quite disconcerting.

"There has to be something…" Sherlock shut his eyes gently as he began to delve into his mind palace "something…something…Something buried deep…"

He opened his eyes and motioned for Tabby to come sit next to him and then to Teddy who stat on his other side. He then turned to the others.

"You three out" he snapped

"What?"

"Get out I need to go to my mind palace"

Dr Stapleton looked affronted, but John and Rebecca quickly steered her out of the room.

As soon as they were far away Teddy turned to look at his uncle.

"Mind what?"

"It's quite literally a memory storage technique, similar to a computer's filing system, except you plot a blueprint with a location and in different parts you allot different pieces of information. Keeps all your data organised so you don't forget"

"Does it have to be a palace?" Tabby tilted her head to the side.

"It can be anywhere you want, even if it doesn't exist. As long as it's something you can remember your way around. For beginners like you, you might want to start off small. Like your house or something or if you're feeling ambitious your school maybe"

Teddy pulled a disgusted face "Eww…why would I want to go back to school in my head when I don't like going there in real life"

Sherlock smirked.

"I'm going to go into mine and see if I can dig anything up about the case. But by the time I'm done I want you two to at least map out what you want your mind place to look like. Alright"

"Right" the two children nodded excitedly.

"Good…now shut your eyes and…go"

They all shut their eyes at once.

Teddy's nose scrunched up slightly as he thought hard. He didn't want to have to go back to his old school in his head…at least not to the main building. It was always too noisy and smelt like the sweat of other school kids. But he did always like the library. It was nice and quiet and peaceful and everything was ordered and neat even if it did look dull. Not like the bookshop he used to live above which had black ebony bookshelves and painted white rolling ladders to reach up to the high shelves. Now if only that were larger…

Tabby was thinking hard too, except her mind palace was not so much a palace as it was a large cinema complex. She always loved the cinema, she loved the smell of the popcorn and the feel of the seats beneath her, the way her heart drummed when the speakers boomed out the noises of the film….

Sherlock jerked out of his almost trance like state as three words Liberty, Indiana H.O.U.N.D. blared out at him from the depths of his mind.

He smirked with accomplishment. Of course how could he have been so forgetful…

He quickly scribbled the note down in his notepad, noting with some amusement that his niece and nephew had yet to snap back to reality.

They seemed to have both found rather good places for their mind palaces, if their faces were anything to go by.

He quickly ruffled both their hair and they both jolted back to him wide eyed.

"Easy there, it's just me" he assured them and they both sighed in relief. "What did you two make?"

"A Cinema!" Tabby said enthusiastically "with heaps and heaps of different rooms inside. What about you Ted."

"A library" but when his sister gave him a roll of the eyes he groaned "A really big one like the state library…but it looks more like the writing desk used to"

Sherlock's eyebrows rose a little.

"Alright…a Cinema complex and a giant Library…interesting…we'll work on filling them with data when we sort out this case once and for all" he murmured sounding rather impressed. They really were ambitious, and those two options were quite logical to follow.

_I may make good Detective's of you yet._

* * *

"No one's there?"

"Nope he just left" Rebecca peered through the little round window in one of the big white doors that led back to the main computers.

"Good. Dr Stapleton"

"Of course" she opened the door quickly with her pass card.

"John."

"on it"

They all snuck in, John staying behind to shut the door and keep an eye out.

"Project HOUND" Sherlock explained to them all as Dr Stapleton tried to log into her computer account for them "An experiment in a CIA facility in Liberty, Indiana. H-O-U-N-D" He said slowly to the scientist when she typed in her search query.

A few seconds later a warning popped up on the screen.

_No Access – CIA Classified_

"That's as far as my access goes I'm afraid"

"There must be an override? A password?" John asked.

"I imagine so but that'd be Major Barrymore's" Stapleton looked towards the man's office which was just behind them.

Sherlock strode towards it muttering under his breath.

"Password, password, password…" he stopped at the chair in the middle of the square room "He sat here when he thought it up"

He spun around in the chair for a moment fingers pressed together in his usual manner.

"Describe him to me?" he glanced at Dr Stapelton who frowned in confusion.

"you've seen him"

"Yes but _describe_ him to me"

"ok…uh…He's a bloody martinet, a throw-back, the sort they'd have sent into Suez"

"Good, excellent, old-fashioned, traditionalist. Not the sort to use his children's name as a password." He pointed out the one or two crude childish drawings on coloured paper on the wall. "He loves his job, proud of it and this is work related. So what's at eye level?"

He turned to the right where there was a large bookshelf.

"Books. Jane's Defence Weekly, bound copies. Hannibal. Wellington Rommel. Churchill's History of the English Speaking Peoples."

"Oh god he's got all four volumes?!" Rebecca groaned "He and my dad would've gotten on like a house on fire"

"Your dad was a Churchill fan?" John raised his eyebrows and she rolled her eyes derisively.

"Is the Pope Catholic?"

"Copy of The Downing Street Years, one to five" Sherlock continued over the top of the two of them "Separate biographies of Thatcher. Mid 1980's, at a guess. Father and son. Barrymore Senior, medals. Distinguished Service Order."

"That date I'd say Falklands veteran" John added helpfully.

"Right, so Thatcher's a more likely bet than Churchill"

"So that's the password?" Stapleton followed Sherlock as he made his way back over to the computer.

"No! with a man like Major Barrymore, only first name terms would do"

He quickly typed in a word.

_Maggie_

At once the machine began to beep wildly as the text

_Override 300/421 Accepted._

_Loading…_

Rebecca looked worriedly at the doorway but it seemed that for once luck was on their side.

Sherlock kept his eyes on the screen as images and documents flashed up in front of him before finally one black and white photograph with a caption popped up.

There were several people some sitting some standing but all were wearing the same T-shirt with a large vicious canine snarling on the front above some text which was difficult to see.

But the caption beneath was as clear as day.

_Leonard **H** ansen_

_Jack **O** 'Mara_

_Mary **U** slowski_

_Rick **N** ader_

_Elaine **D** yson_

…

"H.O.U.N.D" Dr Stapleton murmured as Sherlock began to go through the data quickly revealing rather grotesque and horrifying images of people contorted in pain or in the throws of wild aggression.

Words and phrases jumped out at them as the documents were flitted through.

_Paranoia_

_Severe frontal lobe damage_

_Dangerous acceleration_

_Gross cranial trauma_

_Aerosol Dispersant_

_Multiple homicide_

"Oh god" Rebecca had to turn away when the picture of a very much distorted and dismembered corpse flashed over the screen.

"Jesus" John quickly covered the twin's eyes with his hands. He had seen war, had seen bloodshed. But there was still something horrifying in seeing such brutal acts of savagery especially when it was so bloody.

Even Sherlock had to take a deep breath before he could speak.

"Project HOUND. A new deliriant drug which rendered its users incredibly suggestible. They wanted to use it as an anti-personnel weapon to totally disorientate the enemy using fear and stimulus. But they shut it away in 1986"

"Because of what it did to the people they tested it on?"

"And because of what they did to others" Sherlock nodded. "Prolonged exposure drove them insane. Made them almost uncontrollably aggressive."

"It was probably designed to over-stimulate the hypothalamus…" Rebecca muttered still unable to look at the screen. "And lower the levels of serotonin in the brain, which would explain why they were so susceptible to outside stimuli"

"You're a doctor too?" Dr Stapleton asked her curiously but she shook her head.

"No…just a psychologist…" Rebecca muttered. She'd never once in her life completed a medical degree. The closest to anything medical she'd done had been an introduction to neuro-biology in her university as an elective. But owning a bookshop had its merits and so did self-education.

"So someone's been doing it again? Carrying on the experiments?" John looked rather horrified at the prospect.

"Attempting to refine it perhaps. For the last twenty years" Sherlock's eyes narrowed as he brought up the first photograph of the scientists.

"Who?" Dr Stapleton looked rather nervous.

"Do any of those names mean anything to you?" Rebecca asked sharply.

"No not a thing" the researcher shrugged and Sherlock sighed heavily.

"Five principle scientists…twenty years ago…maybe our friend's somewhere in the back of the picture. Someone old enough to be there at the time of the experiments in 1986?"

He paused on a face of a man in his thirties.

"Maybe someone who says _cell phone_ because of time spent in America? You remember John?"

"Hm-mm" John nodded.

"Gave us his number in case we needed him"

"Oh my god." Dr Stapleton's eyes widened "Bob Frankland"

"Who?" Tabby tilted her head to the side her eyes still covered by John's hand.

"But Bob doesn't' work on…" Dr Stapleton ignored the interruption her voice too shocked "He's a virologist. This is chemical warfare-"

"That's where he started though" Sherlock stated firmly. "and he's never lost the certainty, the obsession that, that drug really could work. Nice of him to give us his number. Let's arrange a little meeting."

Sherlock straightened up just as John's phone rang in his pocket.

He quickly picked it up looking rather warily at it as if it might sprout fangs to sink into his flesh at any moment.

"Hello…who's this?"

"You've got to find Henry" the voice of a woman sobbed loudly.

"it's Louise Mortimer" John mouthed to the room at large. Sherlock glanced at Rebecca and quickly mouthed to her.

"Henry's Psychologist"

"Louise, what's wrong?"

"Henry was…was remembering. Then…he tried…He's got a gun he went for the gun and tried to…"

"What?" John now sounded very worried as she sobbed out.

"He's gone. But you've got to stop him, I don't know what he might do"

"Where, where are you?"

"His house. I'm Ok. I'm Ok."

"Right, stay there, we'll get someone to you Ok?" John said as calmly as he could before hanging up.

"Henry?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"He's attacked her"

"Gone?"

"Yes"

"Then there's only one place he'll go. Back to where it all started." Sherlock flicked out his phone and dialled a number to call. "Lestrade? Get to the Hollow. Dewer's Hollow now! and bring a gun."

He quickly hung up and turned to Rebecca his face set in a deep frown as he seemed to think this through.

"No, good we'll have to risk it."

"Risk what?" Rebecca gulped.

"You'll have to come with us"

"What to the hollow?" John looked outraged as he rounded on his friend and hissed quietly "The blokes' got a gun and you want to let these kids near him?"

"Oh and I suppose you'll want to leave them alone at a _safe_ location to be kidnapped and dragged back anyway" Sherlock growled back, but John wasn't backing down so easily.

"What about the drug? What if it gets to them? They're just kids what will happen to them if they get over-exposed to it?"

"They need to stay with us John" Sherlock stressed "There is no other safer place than with us"

"If anything happens to those kids Sherlock-"

"Nothing will happen to them John! They're coming with us and that's final" Sherlock snapped.

John glowered at him.

"Fine on your own head be it!"

* * *

They scrambled through the dark as they got out of the large four wheel drive.

"Right everyone got their flashlights" John said as three flashlights including his flashed on.

"yes!" Rebecca called.

"Yes I've-" Sherlock paused as something grasped at his hand. He looked down.

It was Tabatha and she was looking white as a sheet.

"Not staying with your aunt?"

Tabby shook her head.

"You're the only other one who's seen it… who knows" she muttered.

Sherlock didn't say anything but he quietly gripped her hand tight as they jogged through the trees.

Rebecca felt her heart almost chill as a loud howling sound echoed around them.

"God you guys weren't kidding when you said this place was creepy" she shuddered as she quickly pointed her flashlight over an empty space between the shadows of a couple of trees.

"Not as scary as it would be if your were alone" Teddy gripped her hand tighter and began to drag her ahead.

"Are you going to protect me Teddy-bear?" a small warm smile flickered over her face.

"Don't call me that" Teddy pouted grumpily.

Despite John's nerves being jacked up almost full tilt he felt almost envious and he suddenly found himself wishing that he wasn't stuck beside Lestrade who had just joined him by his side.

"You'd better buy me dinner first" the DI smirked as John rolled his eyes.

"For anyone that's interested I'm not gay" he whispered to no one in particular.

It took them a good ten minutes of running in the dark behind Sherlock and Tabby before they reached the hollow.

The detective stopped in his tracks as he caught sight of a figure at the bottom of the dip illuminated in the moonlight. A young man pointing a gun into the back of his throat!

"No Henry! No! No!" Sherlock quickly ran down the slope dragging his neice behind his back to shield her from the sight as Henry Knight howled shrilly and pointed the gun at him.

"Get Back! Get away from me!"

"Easy, Henry, easy. Just relax" John put a hand up in surrender but Henry didn't seem to hear him.

"I know what I am! I know what I tried to do!" he shrieked and Sherlock winced as Tabby's grip on his hand became painfully tight with fear.

"Just put the gun down its ok."

"No! NO! I know what I am!"

"Yes I'm sure you do Henry" Sherlock said as gently as he could "It's all been explained to you hasn't it? Explained very carefully"

Henry stopped howling at once and looked rather shocked as Rebecca, Teddy and Lestrade came up to stand behind Sherlock and John.

"What?"

"Someone needed to keep you quiet." Sherlock explained slowly, evenly "Needed to keep you as a child, to reassert the dream you both clung onto because you had started to remember. Remember now Henry, you've got to remember what happened here when you were a little boy"

"I thought…" Henry choked on a sob "I thought it had got my dad…the hound. I thought…Oh JESUS! I DON'T-I DON'T KNOW ANYMORE! I DON'T!"

"NO! STOP!" Rebecca rushed forwards leaving Teddy to stand with Lestrade as Henry pointed the gun back into his mouth.

Sherlock and John both reached forwards and grabbed her by the forearms before she could get too close to Henry but she still kept bellowing over the top of them loudly.

"Henry! Stop! Remember _Liberty In._ Two words! Two small words a frightened little boy saw here twenty years ago! You'd started to piece things together again from the disjointed memories you'd suppressed and you'd begun to remember what really happened here that night!"

Henry looked up at her slowly as she panted for breath and tried to speak calmly.

"There was no animal or monster Henry, there never was. It was a man. It was a man who murdered your father. A man involved in something dark and dangerous. A man that wore that same T-shirt from Project _HOUND_ which you saw when he was standing right here over his body"

Sherlock and John released her forearms when Henry's grip on the gun became slack and it begun to hang down limply by his side.

"You were so young…just a kid…and when it was over you didn't understand why it had happened and you couldn't cope" She walked over slowly, her voice becoming soft, like, Sherlock noticed, how it did whenever she spoke to Tabby or Teddy. "So your mind rationalised it into something very different, something that would've made more sense to a frightened child. And so you believed that there was a monster out on the moors…a belief that was fuelled on by someone who wanted to keep their mistakes hidden away in secret. But then you started to remember and the secret was going to spill out. So the killer decided to stop you. But he couldn't kill you. That would just attract too much attention to what you were saying and sooner or later someone would connect the dots. He had to break you…break your mind so that no one would believe you even though you were trying to reach out to them…but it's over now Henry…we've got the truth now and its going to be alright…just let it go…"

She reached out to the trembling mess of a man and with a daring she didn't even know she had, put a gentle hand on his shoulder as the other pried the gun from his now loose fingers.

"That's right Henry… nice and easy"

"B-but we saw it" Henry blubbered looking at Sherlock who was looking strangely paler than before "The Hound last night, we did we sa-"

"No but there was a dog Henry" Sherlock sighed with relief as Rebecca stepped back from him and back by his side, gun in hand. "Leaving footprints, scaring witnesses, but it was nothing more than an ordinary dog. We both saw it, saw it as our drugged minds wanted us to see it. Fear and Stimulus. That's how it works. But there never was any monster."

There was a loud howl from above…a howl followed by a snarl.

Tabatha latched onto Sherlock's coat tight and buried her face in the wool as large thuds announced heavy footsteps from high above.

"Sherlock" John gulped pointing his flashlight towards the crest of the ridge above.

"No…No, no, no, no, no, NOOOO!" Henry wailed anew as the howling started up again.

"Henry" Rebecca reached out quickly as the man sunk to his knees clutching at his head "Henry listen to me it's alright it's just a normal dog."

But she stopped in her tracks as a snarling sound came up close beside her. She turned around feeling the blood in her veins freeze to ice.

"Sherlock! Are you seeing this" John turned to Lestrade who was keeping a firm hand on Teddy's shoulder as he pointed his flashlight into a clump of trees. He looked livid.

"Alright they were not drugged Sherlock. So what's that?"

Another snarl and yet Sherlock remained rooted to the spot.

"What is it!" John cried out over the wailings of Henry who was still in severe distress.

"All right it's still here!" Sherlock snapped his eyes wide as he gripped Tabby close into his side. "But it's just a dog Henry! It's nothing more than an ordinary dog!"

Tabby screamed as something on four legs came thudding down to the ground in front of them.

"OH GOD!" Lestrade cried out. Teddy looked like he was going to faint at any moment.

The hound… was huge…almost the size of a bear…it's fur was matted with scarred skin tissue and dark rough fur. It's teeth razor sharp and it's eyes. It's eyes were the worst. A glowing red and blank of any pupils.

Rebecca's scream died in her throat as it snarled in hers and Henry's direction. The stench of something rotting, that came off it was almost so overwhelming she thought she would puke.

Then she felt it…the familiar horrible sensation of her throat burning. She shut her eyes as the sounds of water splashing fast and harsh rang in her ears mingled with the disturbing gurgling and spluttering as a large hand grabbed at her shoulder. She tried to struggle but the grip was too strong, and quickly she was dragged down and down. Water entered her lungs and-

"NO!" she cried out loudly and suddenly she was back on dry land. She'd ended up on the ground. She shook her head to clear it of the fogginess, only to realise that the fog was really all around her and that a dark ominous shadow was hovering over her.

"Becca! Becca! Wake up it's not real! It's not real!"

"John!" Rebecca grabbed at the doctor's shoulders and they both scrambled up to their feet. she felt two bundles of warmth crash into her and looked down in terror.

But it was only the twins. She sighed in relief.

Then there was a strange rattling breath.

But it wasn't that of the dogs.

Sherlock turned and saw the outline of a figure with something large over its face stalk from the shadows.

He lunged at it but when his face came close-

"No…" he breathed as Moriarty's face smirked through the plastic cover of the breathing mask.

"Where's Little red now Sherlock" he hissed, though the sound seemed to echo through Sherlock's brain more than his ears.

"Not you…not here! ARGH!"

He tore off the mask and someone shoved him off spluttering heavily.

The old slightly flabby face of Dr Frankland bulged as he tried to hold his breath.

His breath…

Sherlock looked around him, to the great mass of grey that had suddenly appeared around them all.

"The Fog…"

"What?" John and Rebecca both looked at him in shock.

"It's the fog! The drug it's in the fog! Aerosol dispersant that's what it said in the records. Project HOUND. It's the fog! A chemical minefield!"

The hound was almost upon them it's spit flying as it roared out a growl.

"For god's sake kill it! KILL IT!" Frankland cried out desperately.

Rebecca barely had time to get the twins' ears blocked before Lestrade and John both aimed their guns at the canine.

_BANG-BANG! BANG-BANG-BANG! BANG! BANG-BANG-BANG!_

It was one of John's hits, a bullet to the side of the chest that got it and there was a high pitched whine as the creature fell to the ground with a dull thud.

Sherlock quickly grabbed Henry and dragged him over towards the corpse.

"Look at it Henry"

"no-no-no!"

"Come on look at it!"

Rebecca shut her eyes tight feeling a tear roll down her cheek as her mind cleared up enough to see a rather sweet looking black Labrador.

The poor animal. It had done nothing wrong. It had probably just been barking and trying to protect its turf from strangers. It had been left on his own to wander without anyone to care for it. That and the fact that it too must've been inhaling the chemical fog like they had… No wonder it was so aggressive towards humans…

"you…bastard…"

She opened her eyes just in time to see Henry look at Frankland anger brimming to the surface.

"YOU BASTARD!"

He charged and tackled the older man down to the ground trying to wrap his hands around his throat only to be foiled by John and Lestrade who made to pull him off roughly.

"Twenty years!" he hollered "Twenty years of my life making no sense! WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST KILL ME?"

"Because dead men get listened to" Sherlock yelled over him "He needed to do more than kill you. He had to discredit every word you ever said about your father and he had the means…right at his feet. A chemical minefield! Pressure pads in the ground dosing you up every time you came back here. Murder weapon and scene of the crime all at once. Oh HAHA! Oh this case Henry" Sherlock laughed up to the sky in delight.

"It's been _brilliant_!"

"Sherlock!" Rebecca gasped.

He turned to see her and John looking at him in horror and also in fury respectively.

"What?"

"Timing" John hissed giving a meaningful look down at the still shivering and shaking kids holding onto Rebecca's coat.

"Not good?" Sherlock blinked and Rebecca growled and opened her mouth but Henry put a hand up to stop her. When he spoke he sounded much calmer though still very much shaken.

"No, no, it's ok…It's fine" he turned back to look at Frankland who was getting to his feet slowly "Because this means…this means that my dad, was right. He'd found something out hadn't he? And that's why you killed him because he was right, and he'd found you right in the middle of an experiment!"

There was the sound of rustling and whining from where the wounded dog was stirring.

John fired two more shots into the animal to put it out of its misery.

But no sooner had the bangs gone off, someone was scrambling up and out of the hollow.

"Frankland!" Sherlock called.

"Wait!" Rebecca cried out as the young girl detached herself from her aunt and began, to sprint up the hill her face set and determined. She even out ran Sherlock who was still trying to gain his balance half way up the slope.

"Tabby stop!" he called out as he finally got level to the upper ground. He could see her red blob flicker around a tree up ahead.

Sherlock ran like he'd never run in his life. He put all his energy into pumping his legs, his heart almost feeling like it was going to fly out of his mouth.

He was gaining on her, she was fast but he was gaining on her, and on Frankland. The old man was surprisingly fit for his age and in no time at all he'd reached the edge of the trees. Sherlock caught sight of something metallic shimmering in the distance as the man made as if to hop over something.

"Tabby stop!" he barked diving for his niece before she could reach for the metal barbed fence.

"But he's getting away!" she squirmed in his hold.

"I don't care; you have to get away from there!" Sherlock dragged her back into the shelter of the trees just as something in the distance clicked.

_KABOOM!_

The force of the landmine's explosion made the earth beneath them tremble and they both fell to the ground hard just as someone cried out in pain.

"Becca!"

Sherlock looked up just in time to see a head of toffee blonde hair fall like ribbons to the ground.

* * *

"Ah!" Rebecca cried out in pain as her shoulder twinged.

"Sorry! I won't take too long I swear" John assured her smoothly as he began to clean the bloody wound with alcohol.

"It's ok...I'd rather you take all the time you wanted and patch it up properly rather than do a half arsed job on the quick" she smiled assuredly at him. "Though you are doing a remarkable job for five minutes worth of work"

"yeah well" John blushed a little with embarrassment "five minutes in a battlefield with heavy gunfire over you actually feels much longer than you'd think. I sometimes had to perform some medical task within two"

"Sounds really stressful..." Rebecca bit her lip "I would've probably freaked out within two seconds"

"Says the woman who flung herself in front of a hallucinating man with a gun to stop him committing suicide" he smirked.

Now it was her turn to blush a little.

"Yeah well…when you've seen one child's tantrum or freak out you've seen them all"

They both chuckled.

They were back at the inn and were sitting up in Sherlock's and John's room. Rebecca was merely in her red and black silk dressing gown again with the top half dropped down so that her shoulder was exposed as John did his best to patch it up.

He was thankful she was using her hands to cover herself up. Otherwise he'd be stuck staring down at her…

There was a clack as the door opened.

"We found the bullet" Sherlock announced not apparently caring that Rebecca was half sitting half naked in front of him as he held up a small thin bullet.

"Fired from a rifle at long distance. He held it out and Rebecca took it, being careful to keep herself covered. "It grazed you because you were still running when the shot was taken. Had you been staying still it might've lodged itself somewhere fatal. You were very lucky"

The last bit came out as a quiet mutter as John finished quickly bandaging the square patch over the wound.

"There good as new. Just try not to sleep on that side if you can…"he paused as he saw Sherlock give him a pointed glare "I'll give you two some time to talk shall I?"

"Yes please" the detective nodded gravely.

John quickly scrambled through the door at top speed.

Once the door was shut Sherlock rounded on Rebecca verdigris eyes flashing.

"What were you thinking?!"

"Pardon?!"

"What were you thinking?! Running in front of Henry like that"

"What do you mean like that?" Rebecca frowned. "I ran to stop him from hurting himself?"

"Why?"

"Why? Because he would've killed himself that's why!"

"John and I could've handled it!"

"Oh really?!"

"We've done this kind of thing before!"

"Oh what and you think I haven't"

"No but you should've left it to us! At least John or I could've taken him down if he'd gone worse"

"Oh! I see… so that's what this is about!" she snorted derisively as she stood up to stand toe to toe with him "Mr Holmes put out of the spotlight by an ordinary woman with maternal instincts. Well newsflash! I will not just hang back and let a life hang in the balance just because you want your ego to be stroked"

"Becca" Sherlock grabbed her uninjured arm as she walked towards the door. "Becca it's not like that!"

"Then what? What is it like?!"

Sherlock stared down at the fierce hazel green orbs that flared up at him.

Rebecca felt her cheeks flush darkly as Sherlock's arms wrapped around her body and pulled her close, so that her head was brought onto his shoulder.

"…Sherlock…"

His grip tightened around her and she winced a little as her injured shoulder was pressed hard against him.

"Don't you ever do that again" he hissed.

He let her go quickly and strode out the room before she could even open her mouth.

* * *

Sherlock strode out the front door of the inn with two coffee cups, towards John who had begun to tuck into a rather nice looking omelette that had just been set down in front of him.

 _John would know what to do…John can help me fix this_ …

He kept repeating to himself over and over again inside his head as he set down his friends mug.

_No…got to play it cool… play it normal…_

"So they didn't have it put down then, the dog" he said smoothly taking a sip of his own sweeter coffee.

"Obviously" John raised his eyebrows as he cut his omelette into halves and then into quarters "I suppose they just couldn't bring themselves to do it?"

"…I see"

"No you don't"

Sherlock smirked.

"No, I don't…" he admitted "Sentiment?"

"Sentiment" John nodded as he took a bite of food.

Sherlock sighed heavily as he took a seat beside him facing the table opposite at which Rebecca was sitting with Tabby and Teddy, the two twins tucking into two last meals whilst their aunt read the mornings paper. She seemed rather disgruntled by her left shoulder still, but Sherlock could see the slight uneasiness in her eyes as she quickly glanced in his direction. He avoided her eye uneasily and was thankful when John decided to ask out loud.

"Listen, what happened to me in the lab?"

"Do you want some sauce with that?" Sherlock asked evasively.

"Well I hadn't been to the Hollow. How come I heard those things there? Fear and stimulus you said"

"You must have been dosed with it elsewhere" Sherlock shrugged as he began to rummage through the little basket filled with sachets of sauce. "In those labs maybe. And you saw those pipes, pretty ancient, leaky as a sieve and they were carrying the gas so…um…ketchup was it or brown-"

"Hang on" John frowned putting his knife and fork down onto the plate "You thought it was in the sugar. You were _convinced_ it was in the sugar"

"I'd better get going, there's a train leaving in half an hour, so if you want-"

But John was already shaking his head.

"Oh god…it was you. You locked me in that bloody lab"

"I had to it was an experiment"

"An experiment!" John cried out and Sherlock quickly tried to shush him but he kept hissing softly anyways.

"I was terrified Sherlock. I was scared to death"

"I thought the drug was in the sugar so I put the sugar in your coffee" Sherlock explained quietly "Then I arranged everything with Major Barrymore. Totally scientific, laboratory conditions, literally. I knew what effect it had on a superior mind, so I needed to try it out on an average one"

John looked mortally offended.

"You know what I mean" Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"But it wasn't in the sugar" John took a bite out of his food again.

"No…well…I wasn't to know you'd already been exposed to the gas"

"So you got it wrong?" John looked a little smug.

"No"

"Hmm, you were wrong. It wasn't in the sugar, you got it wrong."

"A bit" Sherlock reluctantly admitted taking another swig of coffee. "It won't happen again"

John made to cut another square of omelette but then paused.

"Any long term effects?"

"None at all" Sherlock assured him. "You'll be fine once you've excreted it. We all will"

"I think I might've taken care of that already" John smirked.

Sherlock chuckled but then stopped abruptly.

"John…what would you do if…you thought you knew what you thought about someone…but then it turns out that you…"

His voice fell away.

John looked sidelong at his friend. His face was set in a mask of uncertainty.

"Sherlock…"

"Never mind… it's nothing …" he stood up quickly and settled his coat collar "I won't be a minute. Got to see a man about a dog"

He strode away quickly and John watched him go.

What had Sherlock wanted to say?

He quickly made to glance at the direction the detective had been staring at.

His eyes widened.

Rebecca was laughing and grinning as she tried to stop Tabatha from poking her brother hard for teasing her.

There was a buzz and John quickly looked down at his phone that was sitting on the table.

Mycroft's Text message blared up at him like a red light.

_Come back to Baker Street ASAP. Moriarty's loose…and he's after Miss Monday. He won't stop at anything to get her back. – MH_

There was another buzz as a second text arrived.

_Also keep me informed of her progress, especially with Sherlock. This is of the upmost importance – M.H._

"Upmost importance my arse. Now that is none of your goddamn business" John growled shoving the phone back into his pocket.

Couldn't Mycroft just leave them in peace for even a few days?

* * *

_An hour away in Plymouth…_

"Where are we?"

"Why don't you take a look for yourself?"

A woman with brown hair tied back in a bun stepped out of a car, her red lips pursing as she looked over the scene in front of her.

A small shop building was decimated and covered in black soot, the wooden scaffolding exposed, walls disintegrated, display windows shattered.

She quickly bent down to pick up something from the ground.

A brass doorknob shaped like a birds head…

_"Sissy why are there so many bird handles around the house?"_

"Because this is where the raven keeps his little writing desk" she murmured softly.

She felt her blue grey eyes sting and burn, the moisture in them became overwhelming.

"Just so you know…she slept through the entire ordeal. It was completely painless for her."

Before she could stop herself tears streamed down her face.

"What…what do you want me to do Mr Holmes?" she turned back to look at the car as someone stepped out, in a grey suit carrying an umbrella

"I'm so glad you asked…Miss Adler…Or should I say…Miss Monday…"

Mycroft Holmes raised his eyebrows as Irene Adler turned to face him her lips taught and her eyes streaming.

"So glad indeed"


	12. From the Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life returns back to normal...or does it?

"Are you sure you want to cook aunty?"

"Yeah you look tired"

"Oh I'll be fine don't you worry. Right then…let's see what I can make from this…fridge …"

"Whoa!"

"Cool!"

"Do you think it's still working?"

"Sherlock!"

_And that's my cue_

Sherlock quickly dashed out of the living room and up the stairs to his bedroom, a big grin plastered over his face as he shut the door as a blonde haired woman stormed into his flat.

Rebecca growled in frustration as John sighed from his chair.

"I told you" he flicked open his laptop "tell him to do something he'll just do the opposite just to spite you"

"Argh! I've already got two children to look after without him adding his two cents worth!" She growled under her breath as she ran a hand through her hair.

"Welcome to my world" John grimaced as Mrs Hudson came bustling in her apron a little messy.

"I'll just be down stairs if you need- oh Becca what is the matter?"

"He-that-that OHHH!" Rebecca huffed as she remembered the sight of her fridge that morning. She'd just been about to get milk to pour for the twins porridge only to find that there was no groceries inside. The only thing that was there on the middle shelf plain as day was a plastic bag sitting on a plate with a large jar inside containing a

"He put a brain in our fridge! A BRAIN!"

Only one week had passed since they had uncovered the mystery of the Hound of Baskerville and already Sherlock was up to his old antics again. Rebecca could deal with his neurotic behaviour but after days of trying to stop Sherlock from using her fridge as a cool storage device he had finally stepped over the mark. Even Gwen had never done something this childishly preposterous!

Mrs Hudson looked shocked for a moment at the news but then she rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, that man. Don't worry my dear I'll have a word with him"

"No Mrs Hudson I'll take care of this once and for all, and you two stay here" Rebecca said sharply not even once taking her eyes off the staircase as she stormed upstairs.

"You two heard her now come on I'll fix you something" Mrs Hudson shooed the children off to the dining table and towards John who smirked.

This was going to be interesting.

* * *

"YOU!"

Sherlock Holmes was used to people flinging themselves at him.

A lot were the murderous psychopaths who wanted to prove that they could thwart his brilliance. Some were just those admirers that wanted to sleep with him for a piece of his glory. And the others were people that wanted to hit him for being an obnoxious smartarse to their faces.

But nothing could have prepared him for the fury of Rebecca Monday who, literally pounced and rammed him into the floor before like a vicious tiger. To say Sherlock was surprised would be the biggest understatement of the year.

"That's it I've had it up to here!" she growled ignoring his shocked face.

"I've tried asking nicely, I've tried being patient but have you once listened-"

Sherlock raised a brow at her, not even bothering to fight back as she continued to rant. She wasn't as strong as him or John so it wouldn't be much of a problem for him to shove her off, but still he would allow her the gentlemanly courtesy of venting out her frustration.

Besides it was also far more entertaining pastime for in-between cases.

He blinked when he felt something wet drop over his face.

"God it's hard enough I have to deal with this madman on my back without you adding to it all" she snivelled as she rolled off him.

He stared at her as she made to hobble to the doorway.

So that's what had her so twitchy all this week?

Sherlock sat up staring at her hand as it clutched at her left shoulder where the white gauzy material peeked out from the scooped neckline of her forest green top. The graze had been quite deep, bordering on flesh wound and whilst the skin had healed over it was still remarkably tender.

He inspected the rest of her. Her hair wasn't glowing as much as it used to. It was kind of pale and greyish looking. Her body was looking rather thin too, and her clothes that once hugged her curves were hanging off them slightly.

"What are you staring at?" she grumbled moodily back at him as he stood up.

"You"

"I know that" she snapped but then quickly sighed shaking her head "No…I'm sorry…just…I need some…some…ngh…" she wobbled her arm flailing out to catch hold of one of the shelves on his bookcase.

She felt light headed after that dive into him and it took all she had to hobble to the door.

But not before a hand at her shoulder stopped her.

"Wait" Sherlock muttered as he proceeded to drag her down onto the bed.

Rebecca didn't refuse as she fell onto the soft mattress her eyes shutting at once as her head came into contact with the pillow.

Sherlock shook his head rolling his eyes as he put a hand to her forehead.

_Thought as much._

"John!" he called loudly.

"What is it Sherlock?!" the doctor called back sounding faintly amused.

"Get up here now!"

* * *

"Becca"

Rebecca's eyes fluttered open. The first thing her blurred vision caught sight of was the oatmeal cable knit jumper of John.

He pulled his hand away from her shoulder which he'd shaken gently to wake her up.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been hit by a train" she groaned.

"I don't blame you" John muttered as he leant down to pick up something from a plastic bag by his feet. "Here, just open your mouth a little"

Rebecca did as she was told but still grimaced when the digital thermometer hit her tongue and the taste of plastic filled her mouth.

John waited for a moment before the little device beeped and quickly took it out of her mouth.

"Right…thirty eight point three degrees Celsius. Yep Sherlock you were right she does have a fever"

He looked up to the other side of the room where the detective was standing by the doorway with his arms folded as he bristled uncomfortably.

"I hardly see why this is my fault" he pouted sulkily "She hasn't eaten or slept much over the past few days. I can't be expected to control that"

John shook his head in exasperation. "But you can control your screwing around with her stuff for the fun of it like a git"

"It wasn't for fun. I was going to perform an experiment. Besides our fridge was full and I needed the space" Sherlock shrugged nonchalantly.

"So you just dump it on me?" Rebecca mumbled raising her head up. "You could've at least asked first"

"You wouldn't have taken it" Sherlock grumbled.

"No but we could've come up with a solution to store it differently"

"Oh Really?"

"Yes really!"

"Like how?"

"Use your brain Sherlock! Oh wait you can't, it's stuck in my fridge!" Rebecca snarled her hazel eyes flashing more green in this light.

John was secretly glad Rebecca was too tired to move much now, or else he'd probably be the sole witness to the murder of Sherlock Holmes.

Apparently Sherlock thought the same thing, though instead of fear his face contorted into a look of frustrated wrath.

"FINE! Fine! You've made your point!"

He stormed out the room in a childish huff.

John looked down at Rebecca who smirked derisively.

He raised his eyebrows at her.

"What?" she quirked her own shrewd eyebrow back.

"Nothing. Just get some rest. I'll bring up some soup for you later with some pain killers."

John quickly left the room as his patient flumped back down into the sheets shutting her eyes.

He quickly walked downstairs to where the kids were currently reading in the lounge. Mrs Hudson was bustling around trying to clean stuff up, but Sherlock was nowhere to be seen. He frowned and went to the front door, peering down the staircase, just as the sound of a door shutting hit his ears.

"Sherlock?"

Sherlock appeared at the bottom of the stairs with a large glass jar in his hands. John's eyes bulged at the sight of the greyish cauliflower like brain that was floating inside.

"Has she stopped snapping?" the detective scowled as his flatmate ran down the stairs towards him.

"How the hell did the morgue allow you to get a hold of this?" John's stare was a mix of horrified fascination as he stared at the floating organ

"They won't miss it till tomorrow" Sherlock shrugged but kept it smaller than normal so as to securely hold the jar "they've got a special luncheon for the hospital to attend to anyways"

"So…you stole a brain" John tilted his head to the side.

"I borrowed it" Sherlock corrected him sternly "I will make sure to return it in once piece by tomorrow morning I can assure you"

John shook his head again, but unlike the first few times this one was a little more forlorn.

"She's lost more weight Sherlock" he pinched the bridge of his nose "She's not even eaten much since we came back, and she's not sleeping much either. She may be having nightmares too."

"Nightmares? What nightmares?" Sherlock looked a little startled. How had John figured out this tid bit and not him?

"A couple of nights ago I think I heard her scream from downstairs. When I asked Teddy what happened he said that she was getting the nightmare again"

"Again…" Sherlock murmured the gears in his brain suddenly switching on.

 _The_ _nightmare…singular …but the word "again" suggests has occurred regularly for quite some time. However considering how her sleep pattern went when she first arrived these nightmares have not happened for quite a while…at least not before going to Dartmoor. She screamed at the Hollow too…The fear gas must have triggered her memories._

"John…"

"Yeah?"

"Do we still have the files that Mycroft gave us?"

"Uh…yeah they're in my bedside table like you instructed…why?" John looked rather nervous.

"I need to check them"

"All of them?"

"No just Becca's"

John paused mid step.

"What?" Sherlock frowned in confusion.

"You just called her Becca"

"So?"

"You never called her that before."

"Of course I have, you've just not been there" the words flew out of Sherlock's mouth before he could stop himself.

There was a sticky silence.

"Oh my god"

"John"

"Oh. My. GOD! Are-are you serious?" then he promptly burst out laughing.

"John I fail to see how this is funny" Sherlock clipped irritably, shutting his mouth tight as John gaped at him in dumbfound amazement.

"You call her by a nickname when you're _alone_ together?"

Sherlock kept his mouth shut determined not to let John see anything. His face on the other hand…

"Sometimes…" he mumbled, trying desperately to be non-chalant "It all depends on how much of a hurry I'm in"

John almost choked with laughter as he caught sight of his flatmate's light pink flush that had crept up his cheeks.

"Shit! Sherlock…You actually do…like her?"

"Her company and presence is not…intolerable. Even if she does tend to get rather emotional" Sherlock avoided his eye.

"Right and the fact that you call her pet names in private, looking after her when you're sick, hugging her when you got upset and actually listening to her when she tells you to take the bodily parts out of the fridge has NOTHING to do with you _tolerating_ her company?"

"That is correct" Sherlock nodded briskly before pausing "Hugging…who told you about that?" his face turned incensed but John was spared the answer as something slipped through the mail slot in the door.

"John who told you?" the detective snapped as John dashed to pick up the single envelope.

"Sherlock…come take a look at this"

"What?" Sherlock snapped as John held the envelope in front of his nose.

"Doesn't that look familiar?"

"It does" Sherlock frowned.

The letter just forwarded to them was almost exactly the same as the one that had been first delivered to them the week Rebecca had come to stay.

"What do you think he wants now?" John gulped.

"Open it and find out" Sherlock shrugged his hands still full.

John ripped it open with steady hands and pulled out the paper. At once his fingers were coated in fine grey dust.

"Ash…" Sherlock muttered as the smoky smell hit his nose.

"But who the hell would put ash in an envelope?"

"We're about to find out"

Sherlock nodded to John to pull out the two slips of glossy paper inside.

"Tickets" John mumbled trying his best to handle the items gingerly as he could without getting his now grey smudgy fingerprints all over it.

"Tickets to the MRFB Charity ball to be precise?"

"MRFB?" John raised his eyebrows.

"Mr Red Fox Broadcasting" Sherlock frowned.

"Oh right…don't they run the children's cartoon channel?"

"Yes and a great deal of many other smaller toy companies as well. Their CEO Anthony Toddhunter is apparently on Mycroft's watch list"

"Is he on Moriarty's side?"

"Hard to say" Sherlock frowned as he inspected the details on the shiny side of the paper. "But considering the invitation I'd has it a guess that Moriarty's upping his game a little. The Ritz hotel…He wants something big, something huge. If Toddhunter is his enemy he might be planning a large scale attack but if he's got him on his side it might be a trap"

"Who? For us?"

"No…" Sherlock's body tensed almost angrily as he nodded to the now empty envelope in John's hand. "For her"

John turned his attention back to his other hand. Sure enough on the envelopes white front in plain blue ink.

"Rebecca Monday" John gulped and looked at Sherlock, but the detective was leaning over to try to see to the back of the tickets. His face was as white as a sheet.

"John turn the tickets now"

"What?"

"Turn them!"

John did as he was told albeit rather warily. He felt his throat dry.

There on the back of the tickets were he two halves of a picture.

A picture…of a young woman in a ball gown running down large a set of steps…but leaving one shoe behind.

There was a blank spot in the corner of the top ticket in which was scrawled in graphite pencil.

"You have until midnight" John blinked. "Sherlock is this a message to us or…?"

"obviously not" Sherlock looked up the flight of stairs . "it's for our dear Cinderella"

"but if the message is for Becca..." John sounded really worried now "Why is there an extra ticket?"

"Because Moriarty believes I took her from him" and at this moment Sherlock's eyes became steely as they laid their gaze on his and his flatmate's shared front door "and he wants to return the favour in kind...not that I'll ever let him."


	13. Let the Games Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is the calm before the storm...but still the thunder can be heard from far off as Sherlock struggles to understand why his body is betraying him and the appearance of a familiar blast from the past is not helping.

"So…will you take on the job?"

"What job?"

"The one I just asked of you"

"Pff! I hardly see how playing make-overs with some dumb agents of yours really counts as a job Mycroft Holmes. Even a baby could do that."

"I see…well it's a shame you aren't up for the job. The woman seemed to be the kind of person you'd like"

"Oh really?"

"Yes"

"And just who is this woman?"

" _That_ is a very sensitive matter I cannot disclose to you at present. You will have to find out when you meet her and her partner. All I can say is that if you agree to this now you must not breathe a word to anyone about this."

"…it really is that secret?"

"Yes…And we both know how you like secrets"

"hmmm….if I do take this job. Where will I get the money to buy what I need?"

"The government will pay…those expenses will come under an ambiguous category. But after you shop you must come to the Ritz hotel. Our men will be stationed at the concierge desk and you will tell him that your name. He will then take you up to our agents."

"Fine…I'll do it…but on one condition"

"If you must"

"If I'm going to dress this woman I need to know four things about her. Her hair, her skin, her eyes and her measurements"

"Measurements I understand but…why the other information?"

"The same reason you need to analyse data. How can you expect me to pick a dress for someone I don't have anything on?! Now if you excuse me"

* * *

"No!"

"Sherlock-"

"No John! No! No way am I wearing _that_ in a million years."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed with vehemence as he pointed childishly at the garment John was holding up in front of him.

A long black tailcoat. But that wasn't all. There lying on the large king sized bed of the hotel suite was a white waist coat, white shirt, white detachable collar, white bow tie and a pair of black trousers and black shoes that matched the coat, which had golden cufflinks.

In short an outfit very different from the single pair of plain black boxers Sherlock was currently standing in.

"Listen just because Mycroft sent it doesn't make it any less of a good suit. See I'm wearing mine and it fits" John gestured down to his own black tailcoat.

"John!" came a small grumble from behind them.

John turned around.

Teddy was standing behind him in the doorway, wearing only his blue tartan print pyjamas, his blonde curls messier than ever.

"Hey Ted. What's up" John tried to smile but the boy merely rolled his eyes.

"John! Sherlock! Are you there? Is Teddy with you? I need to get him to bed!" Rebecca called as she strolled in dressed only in a champagne gold satin dressing gown of the hotels.

"You don't have your dress yet?" John looked confused at the sight.

"No!" she replied distractedly combing out her now rather damp golden toffee locks away from her face. "Mycroft said he'd arrange it. But the stylist he said would come is late so…"

She trailed off as her eyes she saw Sherlock in only his undergarments her eyebrows rose involuntarily of their own accord.

Sherlock would have been most amused at the expression on her face had his own eyes not been following the trail of a single drop of water, as it trickled down from her hairline… down her temple… her cheek…her jawline… her neck…her clavicle…her-

"Ahem!" John coughed very loudly.

Sherlock blinked. So did Rebecca.

"Right. Um the clothes John do you know where my phone is? I need to text Mycroft." Sherlock mumbled turning his back on the room and holding out his hand expectantly whilst Rebecca quickly took Teddy out of the room her face red.

John shook his head and sighed as he handed Sherlock his phone.

"Here."

"What are you smiling at?" Sherlock frowned as he caught sight of his flatmate's smirk through the corner of his eyes as he opened up his contact list.

"I saw the way you looked at her" John reached for the comb on the bed and nervously tried to brush his hair for the umpteenth time that hour. He couldn't help it. He felt so out of place in this penguin suit that his tremor in his left hand had started up again.

"And what way was that?" Sherlock's fingers flew over the phone's buttons as he wrote the text message.

_Where is your stylist? We begin in only one and a half hours – S.H._

"Don't play dumb with me Sherlock. It doesn't suit you" John rolled his eyes as he made to look in the full length mirror off to the side of the room so he could adjust his cuffs.

"What way was I looking at her?" Sherlock repeated himself irritably as Mycroft's reply made his phone ping.

_She's on her way up now. Why? Is the presence of a semi naked woman that tempting? – M.H._

Oh great now both his flatmate AND his brother were of the same opinion.

"Uh…like you were trying to deduce her but in a very non-professional manner?" John said lightly completely enjoying the way the detective's face flushed indignantly.

"I was trying to estimate the time it would take given her current state to get ready"

"Right…by staring at her cleavage? Which by the way is perfectly natural. I mean she is quite an attractive woman, not to mention you get along with her. I'm just surprised it took you this long to discover that"

"It didn't…I just never commented about it…"

John's hands that were now trying to straighten his bow tie stilled at once as he turned to see Sherlock who was buttoning up his white shirt with his face turned to the floor.

For the first time since the doctor knew the detective, the latter looked rather nervous and timid like a small boy all alone on his first day at a new school.

This struck John as strange. Sherlock was well aware of other people and the chemical signs of attraction, more often than not using them to manipulate information. But just because he was attentive didn't necessarily mean he really understood what was going on.

"Sherlock…" John gulped in trepidation "has this ever happened to you before? This kind of attraction thing?"

"A couple of times" Sherlock mumbled as he pulled on his trousers "But it's been a while"

"How long?"

"College…probably…actually I don't really remember…it's been quite a while so I may have deleted it"

"What about Irene Adler?"

"What about her?"

"Did you and her-"

"No" John flinched at the sudden harsh tones. Sherlock noticed this and bristled into a calmer state. "She was a smart woman I'll give her that. Well…smarter than most other people but no, not her."

"…So…if not her… or anyone else?" John eyed his friend's reflection closely in the mirror "Why Becca?"

Sherlock opened his mouth to answer. But-

"KYAAA!"

"OH MY GOD!"

"Becca!" Both John and Sherlock shouted as they ran from the bedroom only to stop in their tracks.

Rebecca was standing in the middle of the elegant plush suite parlour holding onto another woman…a very familiar woman in a dark coat, short pencil skirt, white tight blouse, sheer stockings with black pumps. Her hair was a dark chocolaty brown and her grey blue eyes were brimming with boundless affection as her strikingly blood red lips were opened in surprise.

"Jesus Bloody Christ" John gasped as Sherlock's eyes nearly bulged inelegantly out of his sockets as Rebecca and Irene Adler split apart, holding each other by the arms.

Both their eyes were wide but their mouths were splitting into wide smiles.

"I can't believe it you-you're alive!" Irene squealed her eyes strangely overbright and threatening to spill over "You're ALIVE!"

"Of course I am. What did you think I was dead?"

"YES!" Irene pounced upon Rebecca again almost tackling her to the floor, such was the force of her hug.

"Whoa there!"

"Oh Becky" Irene sighed stroking her fingers through the blonde waves that had slowly dried a little more "When I heard what happened to Mummy and Daddy's shop I was so worried-"

"Mummy?!"

"Daddy?!"

Sherlock and John both cried out in unison.

Irene and Rebecca both looked up.

The dominatrix's eyes widened at the sight of the consulting detective and his trusted doctor standing side by side both gaping like stunned goldfish at her and her sister.

"Reenie…This is Doctor Watson and this is…" Rebecca gulped as she met Sherlock's shocked gaze. "Is Sherlock Holmes…he's…we're…uh…you know what never mind. Um Sherlock, John this is my older sister…Irene…"

_Oh god…_

She bit her lip as a silence stretched out for a full minute.

She didn't know how…she didn't know why. But now she felt incredibly scared, especially of Sherlock. His shock had now given way to something much worse. Anger…and a truly angry Sherlock was not something to be trifled with.

"Becca" his voice wavered and he swallowed to glower at the women in front of him. "A word in private."

"Sherlo-" John tried putting a hand up to stop him but he was quickly swatted off.

"Now!"

"Hey don't you dare-"

"Reenie no" Rebecca grabbed her sisters arms as she balked angrily at Sherlock. Irene pursed her lips as she took a step back and folded her arms.

"If you do anything to her Sherlock it won't be just the riding crop that cuts those cheekbones" she snarled at Sherlock as he turned on his heel and begun to stalk off, completely ignoring her.

Rebecca followed him into the suit bedroom that he'd just been in a few moments before, only to find he was not in front of her.

She spun around as the door shut behind her.

Sherlock towered over her verdigris eyes flashing but she stood her ground fiercely.

"Why did you lie to me?" he rumbled.

"I didn't lie" Rebecca looked him in the eye. "I told you I had an older sister. But you didn't ask me who she was?"

But Sherlock wasn't going to be brought down so easily

"She worked for Moriarty. Is that why he's after you?" he grabbed at her wrist to keep her from backing away as she clapped her other hand over her mouth.

"She what? Sherlock this isn't funny-"

"I'm not trying to be _funny_ Becca" Sherlock frowned as he felt her pulse flutter beneath his fingers. She was genuinely surprised. What she said made sense. So why was he so angry with her?

"Do you even have any idea of what she is? What she's done?"

"I-I-" Rebecca's eyes began to water. She was torn between her terror for Sherlock's current anger and hurt for what he was insinuating. But she did know one thing.

Her eyes suddenly flared up and suddenly it was Sherlock's turn to be surprised.

"Sherlock…she's my sister…I know she can be selfish, demanding, conniving and even cruel sometimes…but I also know for a fact that she wouldn't _ever_ hurt me. I don't care what you think you see or deduce about her but that's the truth of it. N-now… could you please let go?"

She winced and Sherlock looked quickly to her wrist.

He loosened his grip slowly still making sure he could still grab her if she moved away too soon. He still had questions for her after all.

He examined the limb in his fingers.

His hand had taken an extremely tight grip over it so hard that it had left a blossoming red mark.

"I'll cover it with a glove" Rebecca looked away from him and down to the floor.

"You're beginning to bruise easily"

"I'm fine"

"You're malnourished."

Despite her anger at him for his outburst Rebecca couldn't help but look as he carefully handled her hand with such a delicate touch that she could barely feel it.

"At least let someone look after you if you're too worried to bother doing it yourself" Sherlock murmured softly and he felt her pulse flutter slightly.

"I'll be fine once Moriarty's done and dusted once and for all" she tried to pull her hand away but Sherlock kept a firm enough grip to keep her there without hurting her.

"Moriarty may not be _done and dusted_ for quite some time."

"But then what exactly are we doing here tonight?" her voice wavered "are we just wasting our time playing his games or are we actually going to be doing something to stop him?"

"Both" Sherlock let his thumb roam around the smooth skin of the heel of her palm. "Which is why you need to trust me Becca."

She narrowed her eyes up at him.

"How can you expect me to trust you, if you don't even trust-"

"Dance with me" Sherlock interrupted her suddenly.

"Huh?"

"Dance with me" he repeated, though this time he didn't wait for a proper response from her before he took one of her hands in his and positioned her other one on his shoulder.

"B-But we don't have any music" Rebecca stuttered in confusion as she felt his hand go to her back.

"Don't need any" Sherlock snorted as he took a step forward. She almost would've bumped into him had her foot not moved backwards at the last second. Then they took a step to the side, his more graceful than hers as she was still trying to get used to this sudden change of events.

One step back. Then another three steps of a similar nature. Forward, side, back. Then Sherlock changed directions and soon slowly but surely they were making their way around the room.

"Sherlock why are we doing this?" Rebecca looked around nervously as he led her close to the closet.

"You said there is no trust between us" Sherlock smoothly lifted her up for a moment before placing her on the ground with her back towards the room door now. "But here and now you trust me to lead you…just as I trust you to follow. The fact that we can both dance together despite our differences proves that there is more to our partnership than meets even our eyes. And that is something which we cannot ignore"

He came to a slow stop and so did Rebecca, though neither removed their hands from each other.

Sherlock reached his fingers towards her pulse point again. It was fluttering rapidly…but strangely enough he was sure his was too. It was almost as if he were expecting something to happen even as he leaned his face down.

Rebecca leaned up a little, knowing exactly what was going on but still feeling incredibly nervous nonetheless as her eyes began to slowly slide shut.

"SHERLOCK! REBECCA!"

They both stilled at once as the sound of John hammering away at the door filled the room.

"God if you're both still alive in there hurry up! We need to get ready!"

Sherlock straightened up feeling strangely reluctant to untangle himself from their awkward embrace. Rebecca coughed a little as she began to resettle her dressing robe about herself.

"I should…probably go now"

And with that she dashed out of the room, leaving behind Sherlock to stare at the spot where she had stood.

John stepped into the room a small frown on his face.

"Sherlock I just saw Becca running out of here. What the hell happened?"

"I-I" Sherlock looked up at his friend a lost expression all over his face. "I don't know…"

As soon as Rebecca was back in the parlor area, Irene at once sprang forwards to meet her.

"What happened? Are you alright?"

"I-I…I'd rather not talk about it Reenie alright?" Rebecca put her hand up to silence her sister.

Irene rolled her eyes and pouted, but still grabbed her hand and dragged her towards the large en suite bathroom.

"Sit" She ordered pointing to a stool.

Rebecca sat down and almost instantly felt the tug of a brush against her hair.

"Goodness Beck when was the last time you _allowed_ yourself to get pampered?" Irene rolled her eyes as she tugged through a stubborn knot towards the ends.

"Allowed myself? It's not been that easy you know. I've been pretending to be dead. You make me sound like a nun from a convent" Rebecca snorted.

"Hey there's nothing wrong if you are. But if you start singing on mountain tops and teaching six children how to sing I will not hesitate to drop this brush and walk out"

Irene chuckled and Rebecca smiled as she shut her eyes and waited whilst her hair was brushed out. Soon it was clipped with a shimmering jet black pin into a half up half down style that made her waves seem to bounce and glisten.

"Now make up…" Irene smirked at the look of dread that passed over Rebecca's face.

"Reenie-"

"Oh stop your whining I won't put much on." Irene waved her off dismissively as she pulled out a make-up kit she'd set up on the corner of the bath tub. "Besides with the dress you'll be wearing you won't need much anyway."

"Good" Rebecca nodded before stiffening

"Er…what kind of dress is it?"

Irene pouted. "Beck you really do not trust my judgment? I'm your sister for heaven's sake"

"Irene you and I both know we have very different tastes in _judgment_." She coughed at the slit high up the back of Irene's pencil skirt.

"Same old Becky" Irene shook her head smirking fondly as she finished with the concealer and moved on to the blusher. "You still dress like an old lady"

"Just because I keep my body _decently_ covered on a regular basis doesn't mean I'm old" Rebecca snorted haughtily.

"decent is boring" Irene frowned and tilted her sister's chin up with a little more force  
than what was necessary as she began to apply the faint coat of fawn nude lipstick. "You know there was a time you'd love to wear the cutest mini-skirts even in the cold?"

"I was stupid and sixteen" Rebecca huffed but still tilted her head sideways when her sister took out the black eyeliner and began to faintly trace over the rim of her eyes.

"Hmm… they're looking more green today" Irene muttered examining the irises in the bright light as she began to apply a very gentle application of olive green eyeshadow "that's good…they'll now be able to match your dress"

"What kind of green is it?"

"Oh you'll see" Irene smirked once more at the pout on her little sister's face. "and so will your dear Baker Street Boys"

* * *

Sherlock paced up and down the length of the parlor his hands twitching by his sides.

John was standing by the doorway checking his watch. They had five minutes till they had to leave through that door. Mycroft's men would be staying with the twins tonight, though that in itself was a worry to John. Not for the twins…but more for their babysitters…

There was a gentle click as the door to the suite opened and Mycroft stepped in wearing a very dark black grey tailcoat. He gave a withering sigh when he saw the absence of the two women.

"Are they still not out yet?"

"I'm just about to call them" John gulped as Sherlock stormed past him for the hundredth time in those ten minutes.

He and his flat mate were now fully decked out in the white tie dress code from head to foot within the span of half an hour tops.

Just how long could two women take to get one ready?!

But just as he was about to voice this opinion the door to the bathroom opened and out stepped Irene, who was still dressed in her pencil skirt and blouse as she led her little sister out into the room.

Gone was the stressed out surrogate mother of twins. Instead a woman stood before him, her face relaxed even cheerful. Her make-up and jewelry wasn't too extravagant, but nor was it too simple. It highlighted the right features for all lights to see, especially her eyes, which seemed more green than blue today. And her golden toffee blonde hair fell half up half down in its natural lovely waves, which were now shiny and whole.

Her dress too was quite simple but at the same time very elegant and long with a little court train. A soft sage green colour it was, A-lined with a low V neck a backless back and sleeveless. The material was all chiffon softly pleated down the front, save for one simple matching satin sash tied in a bow around that sat on the side of her left hip.

Her shoes were barely visible but Sherlock caught a glimpse of pale gold peeking out as she made to hold up her skirt to let herself walk towards them.

Rebecca smiled shyly at her two flat mates as Irene smirked widely.

"Don't be shy? Speak up"

Sherlock stared dumbly at Rebecca his brain quite literally drawing up blanks for what to say.

Eventually it was Mycroft who broke the silence and he was rolling his eyes.

"You two are going to need this" he held out a small blue velvet box to them.

Sherlock took it though he looked rather anxious as if he were expecting it to blow up. Rebecca waited with bated breath as he quietly opened it up and sighed heavily.

"Wasn't this grandmother's" he looked despondently at his elder brother, as if the mere mention of the woman left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"The very same one." Mycroft sniffed the air disdainfully "I would've bought a plainer one but Mummy would not stop nagging. Said she wanted her first daughter in law to have it."

"Pff! Mama's boy!" John fake coughed. Rebecca giggled as Mycroft's ears went pink.

Irene's eyes though had widened.

"Wait…are you two…oh my goodness Becky-"

"Oh for god's sake Miss Adler! Yes my brother and your sister are married. Or at least they are _pretending_ to be for the time being. And whilst I'm on the subject of marriage I suggest you get on with it Sherlock or we'll be stuck here all night!" Mycroft huffed grumpily gesturing to said younger brother who rolled his eyes and finally pulled out the contents of the ring box for Rebecca to see.

It was a gold braided wedding band, slender but nonetheless had a beautiful lustre. Even though she knew it was all for pretend, Rebecca couldn't help the small hitch in her breath as Sherlock gently pushed it on her left ring finger.

"It fits…" he muttered in surprise that wasn't altogether pleased. He was hoping it wouldn't have. If it didn't it wouldn't have made this union so much more real.

But then again…it did look rather nice on her fingers. And it would surely be of more use on them than inside a mere box collecting dust.

John couldn't help the small smile that flitted over his face at the sight of his two flat mates. They both looked so nervous, and Mycroft's presence behind them wasn't helping one bit.

Then he noticed something else.

Sherlock had not let go of Rebecca's hand.

There was a loud ringing as a clock struck the hour of eight and the moment shattered. Rebecca and Sherlock quickly pulled apart settling themselves back down and clearing their throats very enthusiastically.

"I believe that is our cue" Mycroft turned his back on them to open the door "Miss Adler you are free to go for today"

"Reenie…" Rebecca looked worriedly at her sister who smiled warmly.

"I'll call you tomorrow or whenever I can. Oh and keep an eye on your dear _husband_ " She turned her eyes on Sherlock who immediately stiffened as she looked him up and down appreciatively "there are many people who would simply _kill_ for a piece of him. Not that I blame them. After all brainy is the new sexy."

She gave him a roguish wink before turning to glare venomously at Mycroft.

"We need to talk. Not now…but soon"

"Che! I look forward to it" Mycroft sneered back as she walked out the door and out of sight.

He turned back to the rest of the room.

"Ready for the great plunge?" he smiled oh so _happily._

All three faces dropped at once.

Rebecca nodded mutely, the disappearance of her sister suddenly reminding her of the daunting horrors that awaited her on the floors below.

She barely noticed as Sherlock took her arm and linked it in his to escort her out of the room.

Sherlock was glad of this. To him it meant she trusted him enough to help her through.

But-

And his insides squirmed as he gripped her arm tighter.

-Would trust be enough to stop Moriarty?

* * *

A man with brown hair and slight stubble stood amongst a crowd of people all decked out in their finest coats and dresses. No one noticed him. Not that he wanted them to. He only needed two people to see him for what he was tonight. And they had not yet arrived.

His fingers itched with anticipation. It was like waiting for the deciding move in a game of chess. Everyone was on tenterhooks including the players themselves. But Jim Moriarty wasn't nervous, no.

He was excited.

A loud murmur rose through the crowds as a small group of people came up the carpeted steps of the hotel.

"Oh my goodness is that-"

"It is!"

"It's Sherlock Holmes"

"Aww…he's not wearing the hat-"

"Hey who's that with him?"

"What? That's Doctor Watson isn't it?"

"No not him! The lady next to-"

Moriarty's eyes snapped at once to the center of the group just as they passed him.

A head of golden toffee hair bounced gently as the woman on Sherlock's arm glided with him into the large space of the large room.

_Tut, tut, tut. Oh Sherlock… Sherlock, Sherlock, Sherlock…now this is just mean even for you..._

His eyes narrowed as he caught sight of Rebecca as the detective muttered something in her ear, that was probably a deduction of some kind, but it still made her smile with amusement.

_So you want to play Sherlock?_

Moriarty's knuckles turned white by his sides as he caught the faintest glimpse of gold on her left ring finger.

_Well then…let's play!_


	14. When the Clock Strikes Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moriarty makes his move, but Sherlock's got some help from a familiar face. Will they be enough to help him last till midnight?

“Oh my dear do you see that?”

“I think I do”

“Oh my I always knew the younger Holmes brother was well sought after but I never expected him to be _involved_ in a relationship let alone a straight one”

“Forget about expectations, just who is this woman?”

“I don’t know”

“People keep saying she’s his wife?”

“What? No that can’t be! That plain little _thing_?”

Rebecca did her best to ignore harsh comments flung her way as she and Sherlock made to walk past the two plastic bimbos dressed lurid gowns and gaudy jewellery.

However instead of shutting up they both sneered at her nastily.

“She’s so flat you could iron clothes on her”

“Pff…and not just flat do you see that dress. Ugh! She doesn’t even have proper jewels. Didn’t anyone tell her that this is an exclusive event for people of _higher calibre_?”

“If that’s the case then you two tarts are certainly out of your league here”

 Sherlock’s voice cut the air so sharply like a sushi knife through a fish.

“Though that’s to be expected considering you two probably have the same brain capacity and aesthetic beauty as a pair of old cows”

“Sherlock!” Rebecca spluttered barely holding back the urge to laugh.

“No Rebecca you are quite right, that is a terrible insult to cows”

There was a tittering of chuckles from the crowd around them all as both said cows, gaped in terror and outrage at the detective, who promptly turned on his heel steering his wife alongside him.

They had been mingling for over three hours now and it was close to eleven o’clock.

Actually no. They had not been mingling really. In fact it was only Rebecca that had been talking and Sherlock had been merely grunting to everyone that they’d been introduced to. The perks of being a high functioning sociopath.

Mycroft, who was still striding out in front of the two of them, he quickly made to greet a man to his side, a large fake smile plastered over his face as he grasped at their hands.

 “Isn’t that the-” Rebecca began but Sherlock quickly cut across her

“Yes and I don’t want to talk to him or any one of these _people_ ”

“Sherlock that was the minister for finance and his wife!”

“So?”

“So, he and everyone else attending are probably some of the most important people in the whole of Europe? If you’re going to fit in you’re going to need to talk to one of them”

“I thought I was already doing that?”

 “I don’t count”

“Why not?”

“Because I-I…look Sherlock you can dress me up in any frock you want but at the end of the day I’m still just going to be…well…me…”

“And is that a bad thing?”

“No…at least I don’t think so”

“Then I don’t see what makes you any less important than these people?” Sherlock’s grip on her arm tightened slightly.

Rebecca blinked.

It took her a second to process the meaning of his words and when she did she did not disappoint. Her face flushed a deep red.

“Sherlock-”

“What?” Sherlock snapped, pouting grumpily, but Rebecca only smiled and gently pulled down on his arm to tilt his head towards her.

“Thank you”

Sherlock’s eyes widened in surprise when he felt her lips press feather light against his cheek. It was only for a moment but to Sherlock it felt like an open flame had flickered against the skin, making it sear with a strangely pleasant warm tingle.

“No need to. I was merely stating an obvious fact” he mumbled his ears faintly pink.

He completely forgot about John who was walking behind him almost dumbstruck. Sherlock hated physical displays of affection; he rarely allowed any to be directed at him let alone instigated any.

John of course being his best friend had somehow managed to get past a couple of those barriers but even then Sherlock had been wary of letting him in too much. But that was to be expected.

The twins he could understand Sherlock being a little more lenient with. They were his sister’s kids, and from what he’d managed to observe about the detective’s reactions to mentions of her around the flat, they’d obviously been extremely close.

But Rebecca…Rebecca had managed to slip her way in the chinks in his armour somehow. John didn’t know whether it was just because of her being the mysterious person she was or because Sherlock was allowing her to do so. Or maybe it was a mixture of both.

Had he not been friends with Sherlock he would have been jealous at the sight of him walking arm in arm with this enigma of a woman. But instead John felt a strange mixture of elation and pride.

After all those years spent alone and mostly friendless with only a skull for company, Sherlock deserved this piece of happiness…happiness that was about to be shattered as John caught sight of a horrifyingly familiar face wading towards them through the crowd.

Sherlock saw it too and Rebecca’s eyes quickly darted around trying to figure out the source of his sudden change in demeanour.

“Don’t look” he quickly tugged her away so that they at once were hidden behind a group of people.

“Moriarty?” She looked up worriedly. He gave the smallest of nods to her and then John who quickly ghosted his hand over his side. He’d hidden his revolver in his pants underneath the tail of the coat.

Sherlock however didn’t need a gun. Not when he had the ultimate bait hanging right off his arm. He paused for a moment as he mulled over that last thought. For some strange reason he didn’t like that he himself had just objectified her as a part of the case. It felt…wrong.

“What are we doing? He’ll see us” Rebecca hissed as Sherlock led her at once onto the edge of the dance floor just as a slow tune began to play.

“Just follow my lead and trust me” Sherlock whispered as he leisurely began to steer them both in time with the music.

“Sherlock”

“Hmm-” he looked down on her and she nervously bit her trembling lower lip. Her green blue eyes were looking so pleadingly up at him, beseeching him for comfort he was unsure of how to give.

“Becca…I don’t know how this is going to end” he admitted quietly his hand’s grip on her waist becoming more gentle “But I won’t let him hurt you. You have my word”

“I know…” Rebecca gulped as Sherlock quickly looked up to see someone as they walked towards them. “Are you sure Tabby and Teddy are going to be safe?”

Sherlock nodded though his body tensed “If Mycroft’s men don’t do their job I personally will make sure they all have their brains put in their refrigerators where they belong”

A small smile flashed across Rebecca’s face as Sherlock led her into a small spin.

When he drew her back in she accidently trod on his foot.

“Oops! Sorry” Rebecca bit her lip as Sherlock winced in pain.

“What did your sister do to your feet?”

“She turned them into hooves” Rebecca rolled her eyes and when her partner looked down on her bemused she flushed slightly embarrassed.

 “When we were little Reenie and I used to make fun of some of the ladies that used to come to the Writing Desk. Their heels were so high that whenever they stepped around they sounded like horses clacking about with large hooves.”

She made a couple of soft clacking noises with her tongue before grinning widely “kind of looked like horses too”

Sherlock snorted, but paused as he caught sight of her faltering smile.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“You really have no idea of what she’s done?”

“I do know…a little…” Rebecca grimaced “…Reenie always did enjoy causing trouble. Not to mention she does rather like the attention it gets her. I mean she won’t try it with me because well, we’re sisters and all. But I would never have thought she would be in cahoots with someone like Moriarty”

“There are plenty of other people I that I would say the same of” Sherlock’s eyes hardened. “But if you had known…what would you have done?”

“I would’ve knocked some sense into her John Watson style”

Sherlock’s eyebrows rose.

“John Watson Style?”

“Yep. I would’ve tried to reason with her calmly and then if that wouldn’t work I’d be all angsty and then if that didn’t work I’d have gone all cute and guilt tripped her until I had to bribe her into action and if that still didn’t work I’d walk out the door!”

Sherlock would’ve been astounded for her keen observational skills of John’s exact methods of dealing with him had it not been for one small detail that stuck out to him like a sharp stab to his gut.

“You think John is cute?”

Rebecca blinked but then smiled warmly.

“Well yeah sure he is. I mean he’s a good reliable friend, got that spunk about him, he’s caring and patient-”

“So are golden retrievers”

“Sherlock that’s mean. John’s not a dog, he’s a man!”

“I thought that deduction was pretty obvious?” Sherlock deadpanned and Rebecca spluttered out into giggles, as she was lifted up by the waist to twirl a little in the air, so as to avoid a couple careening past them at top speed.

Sherlock felt the corners of his mouth twitch upwards as he brought her back down to the ground, only for her to slide a little in his grasp.

Rebecca squeaked softly as her nose brushed his cheek and Sherlock felt the strange warm tingle spread over his skin from the point her skin had touched his.

_Odd…_

He thought as her heeled feet finally came into contact with the ground. His entire body was tingling from his head to his toes. No…not just his. He observed, as his hands retook the dancing position, the way Rebecca’s body seemed to shudder with the mere graze of the pads of his fingers against the smooth expanse of skin. He wondered if she’d respond the same way if he touched her-

Someone tapped his shoulder.

Sherlock leaned his head away from Rebecca’s, not quite understanding how he’d come to be in that situation in the first place. He straightened up and turned round to glower at the person who interrupted him, only to come face to face with none other than a man with short brown hair and brown eyes.

“Hello Sherlock” Moriarty smiled benignly “Enjoying yourself?”

“Quite well thank you” Sherlock tensed as he felt Rebecca begin to tremble uncontrollably behind his back.

Moriarty leaned around to see what all the fuss was about but Sherlock obscured his view of the frightened woman quickly, his face set in a hard calculating stare.

The consulting criminal straightened up and raised his eyebrows at his rival.

“Really my Toffee, I come all this way to arrange a meeting with you and you go and hide away behind _your_ dear Sherlock Holmes when I want to see you? Tut-tut! Naughty girl”

“Well you’ve seen her now. So we’ll be on our way”

Sherlock made to drag Rebecca off the dance-floor but Moriarty grabbed her other hand so that she was awkwardly tugged between the two of them like a rag doll. A couple of people turned their heads to watch the scene with interest

“Let her go” Sherlock growled but Moriarty shook his head.

“Oh I don’t think so Sherlock” he gave a large tug and before she could stop it, Rebecca’s hand slipped from Sherlock’s.

She tried to struggle towards him but-

“I don’t think so my dear” Moriarty held her fast and began to spin her around, much like Sherlock had just been doing a few moments before. Only this time she was feeling sick to her stomach.

Sherlock meanwhile had stumbled backwards from the force of it. He had become so off balance that he almost crashed into a woman, who caught him deftly but not before leaning into his ear and whispering softly.

“Feeling a bit topsy turvy huh?”

Sherlock froze, turning his gaze slowly.

The woman was tall, around five foot ten, her slender and willowy build adorned in a beautiful long royal blue shapeless strapless gown. Her hair was dark and curly but had been tied up in a large stylishly mussed up bun at the back of her head. But what got him the most was her face. High cheekbone like his but attractively so, with sharp verdigris eyes.

“Hello Shirly” Gwendolyn Holmes smiled warmly as she pulled her brother back onto his feet.

“Gwen? What-how?” Sherlock gaped at her, but she quickly waved him off.

“Never mind that now. We need to move. Quick!”

“Move?”

_Of course…Becca!_

Sherlock felt his heart almost freeze up in his chest. Now he really felt like such a fool! How could he even have forgotten for even that split second?

“There! On the other side” his eyes quickly snapped to the point where he saw a head of toffee blonde hair disappear into the crowds.

“Call your doctor friend, tell him to contact Mycroft” Gwen quickly made her way into the sea of heads, Sherlock following closely, half his attention on the phone in his hand, the other on following the hem of her dress.

_John, Moriarty has Becca. Get Mycroft ASAP! Gwen and I will find you – SH_

“Is he coming?” Gwen gulped her eyes wide and looking a little panicky.

“You lost them?” Sherlock hissed.

“No, _he_ lost _me_ ” she grit her teeth as a large dense crowd blocked off their path “The bloody bastard’s good I’ll give him that”

“This way” Sherlock narrowed his eyes as he caught sight of Moriarty’s leering face, which winked at him as he dragged a terrified Rebecca through a large set of doors.

“Sherlock it’s John” Gwen hissed as Sherlock flipped out his phone to read the text.

_Sherlock make your way for the Marie-Antoinette Suite NOW – JW_

“Marie-Antoinette suite” Sherlock informed his sister who immediately narrowed her eyes in concentration.

“When we get outside we turn-”

“Right” Sherlock finished for her.

“Yes” she nodded. They quickly did so and rushed past several security guards who shouted after them.

“Shit” Gwen hissed.

“Don’t bother with them!” Sherlock called as he took his sister’s hand and broke out into a sprint, dragging her behind.

They’d just reached the doors to the suite when suddenly there was a loud-

**_BANG!!_ **

A blood curdling scream rang through both Holmes’ ears.

Sherlock face turned white as a sheet in a matter of seconds as he wrenched open the doors.

“Oh god” Gwen gulped clapping a hand over her mouth.

“John! John can you hear me? John!!”

Rebecca cried out as she pressed her hands against the man’s chest as he lay flat on his back. His face was pale and his eyes were closed and there was a lot of blood gushing out of the spot in his shoulder where he’d been hit by the bullet.

Sherlock didn’t think twice. He ran to John’s side and checked his vitals quickly. He was still breathing and his pulse was still beating steadily but it was slowing down a little.

“Sn-sniper. He-he pushed me out of the way” Rebecca chocked down as large tearful sobs escaped her. “Oh god John I’m so sorry”

Sherlock quickly put his own trembling hand on hers.

“Keep staunching it.” he began to dial the emergency number.

There was the creaking of doors on the other end of the room and Gwendolyn ran forwards, snatching John’s gun, which was lying on the floor beside his body, and pointed it at Moriarty as he smirked.

“Why hello Miss Holmes. Don’t you look lovely? You know I’ve always wondered what you’d be like-”

“Moriarty, if you don’t call of that sniper of yours I will shoot you to _hell_ ” Gwendolyn snarled the sound more like a feral cat’s hiss than anything else.

 “Hmm…you’re just as cute as Sherlock when you’re mad-”

“Call him off now!”

“Yes mam” Moriarty’s grin widened excitedly.

“Get down to your knees. Hands’ behind your head” she jerked her finger on the trigger to emphasize her point.

Moriarty did as he was told, surprisingly enthusiastic to comply.

 _Just what is he playing at_?

Sherlock gritted his teeth as he crouched by John’s side, helping Rebecca to keep his shoulder staunched with the hem of her dress.

 “Toffee?” Moriarty said in that quiet, wistful sing song tone.

Sherlock squeezed Rebecca’s hand gently in his despite his mounting anger towards the criminal now kneeling on the floor gazing at her with a strangely bittersweet longing look.

“Oh come now. We used to be such _great_ friends. Remember we used to sit by the pool after the swim meets and just hang out until the sun would come down. It didn’t matter that we lived on two different sides of England. We could always come together and sit by those pools and just… _talk_ …”

Rebecca looked up and into his brown eyes. That hue…why hadn’t she noticed it before.

“…Jimmy?” Rebecca breathed.

Sherlock’s and Gwendolyn’s eyes both widened in shock.

“That’s right Toffee, just remember” Moriarty hissed “Remember the water? How Carl dragged you under. How I saved you?”

“You didn’t save me” Rebecca spat back.

“Really because I was quite sure that-”

“You can be quite sure” Gwendolyn cut in icily as she came around to press the gun in her hands to the back of his head “that if you mess with _any_ of my family again you’ll get more than one bullet through you”

“That won’t be necessary” A new voice called.

They all turned their heads.

“Damn it. Here comes the Pig parade!” Gwendolyn’s teeth grit as Mycroft strode calmly into the room flanked by security.

“I’ll take it from here Gwendolyn” Mycroft’s tone was absolutely disdainful as he looked upon his younger sister, who slowly and reluctantly lifted the gun away from the consulting criminal’s head.

At once three burly men leapt down on him and held him fast to the ground as they slung a pair of handcuffs on him.

Moriarty did not struggle as he allowed himself to be hauled up to his feet roughly.

“I’ll find you soon my dear Cinderella” he grinned down at Rebecca who turned away from him, shutting her eyes.

There was silence as Mycroft’s men dragged him off and out of the room.

“What took you so long?” Gwendolyn spat at her eldest brother as soon as the door was shut.

“The crowds” Mycroft replied airily. “Now scuttle along I’ve got things covered”

“My children-”

“Are perfectly safe” He rolled his eyes in revulsion “now would you control your stupid emotions and let me do my job you silly twit”

Gwendolyn opened her mouth to retort.

“Be-cca” a voice groaned.

Everyone in the room froze.

“John!” Sherlock called as the doctor’s blue eyes opened blearily.

“Be-ck…Moriarty…shot …hurts”

“John, Oh John thank God!” Despite her attempts at calm, Rebecca’s voice shook and tears streamed down her face.

“You…Ok?” he grunted smiling up at her.

“Yeah…yeah I’m ok. And you’ll be ok too the ambulance is almost here.” She nodded tremulously and Sherlock let out a large sigh of relief as, sure enough, the sound of an ambulance could be heard in the distance along with the large clock chimes.

**_Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding!_ **

_Twelve strikes…_

Sherlock shut his eyes and breathed heavily.

Midnight had come and gone and Moriarty was caught.

Sherlock should have been happy by now but he wasn’t.

Something was wrong. This game had been far too easy by Moriarty’s standards. He’d also come too quietly, and Sherlock knew from long time experience that those who played their full hand at the grand finale often were rather reluctant for the curtain to fall.

_But has it fallen yet?_

Sherlock frowned staring down at his friend on the ground.

_No…_

His eyes hardened as his gaze swept over the blood that stained John’s white shirt that horrible vibrant red. Red as the carpet he was laying on.

… _the curtain has only just begun to rise._

Moriarty hadn’t given them till midnight to catch him.

He’d just given them time to batten down the hatches for the real storm.


	15. Mirror Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sherlock and Rebecca discover more than they might have thought possible.

**Chapter 11: Mirror Mirror**

His fingers on the knobs of a large microscope in front of him, were tense as they tried to focus the image of the decimated bloodstained bullet slug that sat on the little glass slide

"Sherlock"

Sherlock Holmes paused his eye hovering over the eyepiece.

He pulled himself up straight his eyes sharp but his body strangely twitchy. He could not remember a time he'd felt so on edge. Even the torture of absolute withdrawal from just after his drug taking days was never as intense as the mixture of terror and wrath he now felt.

He turned to look as a woman with dark curly hair and a face similar to his but still quite beautiful in its own right, stood in the doorway to the lab he occupied.

"Any news Gwen" he stated softly, standing up from his chair as his sister strode over to him.

"The procedure went well. Porky got the best surgeons in the hospital to work. They're settling John in a private ward to sleep. He'll have to stay there for a week or two till their sure he's responding well to the treatment"

Sherlock nodded once in understanding but then frowned. She was wearing a worn out large grey trench coat over her blue dress.

"You're leaving" it wasn't a question but still Gwendolyn answered.

"The cab will be here in half an hour but I have to get out before Mycroft brings Teddy and Tabby around"

Sherlock's gaze hardened but he did not object.

"Gwen…after all this time and of all the people you could've…why did you send them to me?"

His voice was quiet but there was the faintest trace of a waver in it that only she heard. She gave a tremulous smile.

"Because…Because…despite what you like to show people, I knew you'd look after them properly. Though I am surprised that you aren't sending them to school."

"It's almost the end of the school year anyway and it was too dangerous to let them out of our sight before we captured Moriarty. Besides…" Sherlock raised his eyebrows at her. "You remember _our_ school days."

"Oh…yeah…right" Gwendolyn grimaced, but couldn't help but add "but now he's locked up will they will attend next term?"

"Mycroft's got a principle that owes him a favour so yes I suppose so. But why are you so worried?"

"Because that's what mothers do Sherlock." She sighed "We worry our asses off for our baby's. Sometimes so much so that we do stupid things to keep them safe"

He looked her over once more, remembering the first day when the twins had arrived at his doorstep, how despondent they looked when they realised their mother wasn't there to meet them.

"Are you sure you don't want to see them" Sherlock mumbled, Gwendolyn shook her head.

"I can't…at least not now. And you and John cannot tell them that I ever came" Her jaw was set and her eyes slightly over bright but nonetheless she kept her voice steady.

"And what of Becca?"

"She knows not to blab already" but then Gwendolyn smirked. "and speaking of my bestie you two seemed pretty cosy on the dance floor tonight"

"It was just a dance" he glowered when he felt the now familiar tingle around his ears that meant they'd turned pink.

Her smirk turned into a loud chuckle as Sherlock muttered darkly under his breath.

"Oh Sherly" Gwendolyn sighed as she strode over and wrapped her arms around her brother. "I've really missed you"

Sherlock stiffened for a moment before he gingerly returned the gesture resting his head on her shoulder.

"You know it's been hellish having only Mum and Dad and Mycroft to contact me"

"Oh tish tosh you love them and you know it" Gwendolyn rolled her eyes patting his back sharply.

"And _you_ know that I prefer you more than any of them" Sherlock mumbled. "and so do your kids for that matter"

"I thought you liked having your nephew and niece around?"

"I never said I didn't. After all they're quite intelligent, they've already grasped the basics of the Method of Loci quite well already"

"Yes Becca was just telling me, they're apparently quite enthusiastic to learn all your tricks. As was I…once upon a time"

"Not anymore?" Sherlock pouted.

"Nah! Now I've got my own tricks up my sleeves" she shook her head as she pried herself away from her brother who raised his eyebrow back.

"Hmm…What _have_ you been up to all these years?"

"A lot of things" Gwendolyn gave a small mischievous wink, which quickly softened as she let go of him finally. "A lot of things which I can't tell you about now…but I will someday…Goodbye Sherlock…"

She began to walk away slowly.

"Gwenny!"

She turned just as Sherlock reached forwards from his striding and grabbed at her hand.

"Try to at least text even if you can't talk" his voice was soft, almost gentle but there was a stiffness to it like he was trying to hold something back.

"I'll try..." she murmured "But don't try to call me. I'll find you."

Sherlock nodded still trying to restrain himself but –

He swiftly dove in and placed a small peck on her forehead.

"Don't tell Mycroft" he whispered into her hairline.

Gwendolyn smiled.

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes you have not changed one bit"

* * *

Sherlock's walk back up to John's private ward was quiet. He felt colder than normal with each step.

Gwendolyn had left the building quietly and the twins were going to come any moment now…but still…

Sherlock shuddered in spite of himself and pulled out the little glass jar he'd kept in his pocket.

The deformed bullet slug was cleaned now but it still tinkled against the glass sharply.

_Cartridge…either a .308 Winchester a .300 Winchester Magnum or a .338 Lupua Magnum. Fired from a rifle. Probably a bolt-action anti material rifle…DSR-1 or DSR-50? Data unclear. Manufacturing origins – DSR-Precision GmbH… Germany._

Whoever this shooter was they had real skill to be able to fire a weapon of this make. Of course being Moriarty's pet, figuring out who it was would take some time.

He stopped outside a windowed room and peered through the glass.

The restful figure of a short blonde haired man lying unconscious in a medical bed and strapped to various machines…

"Hey"

Sherlock looked up and came face to face with a kind faced, but slightly worried woman in a white medical jacket, her mousy brown hair tied up in a high ponytail behind her head.

Molly Hooper turned to look into John's room and her brown eyes drooped down lowly.

"I talked with the other…doctors" she whispered "…they said he's going to be ok…are you…um…ok?"

"Yes I am" Sherlock's grip on the jar in his hands tightened as he caught sight of John's heart monitor beeping up and down at a repetitive but steady pace.

"Are you sure you don't want anything? Um that is I mean…coffee…tea…ah…" Molly fumbled around nervously with her fingers.

"No …but thank you" Sherlock gave a small nod at the pathologist who flushed slightly pink.

"John's strong" she mumbled

"But he won't be in action for quite a while?"

"No…" Molly agreed "I mean it'll take six months for everything to completely heal up and he'll be in a sling for three but I'm sure he'll make it through just fine and by the fourth month he'll have more mobility to do normal tasks with both hands. So he…he won't be doing much for a while."

"So he can't join me on cases?"

"…no…he can't"

Sherlock's hands clenched by his sides.

This was going to be a long wait.

* * *

"Um…Miss? Miss?"

"Hmm?" Rebecca opened her eyes. A blonde haired woman was standing over her in a nurses uniform her hand gently shaking her shoulder.

"Where…what?" she blinked and yawned as she sat up. "Oh…right St Barts"

"You feeling alright? You took quite a punch there with that nap of yours"

"Oh it's nothing just everything has just been so…hectic recently" Rebecca yawned again. Her head still felt fuzzy.

The nurse straightened up.

"The doc said you'd want to know as soon as possible. Your friend John is out of the surgery and he's doing great. He's just resting in his own ward if you'd like to see him"

"Ok just give me a moment I might just need to just go to the loo?" Rebecca looked quickly around. The waiting room was empty save for her but she couldn't see a bathroom close by.

The nurse smiled understandingly.

"Just outside the door and to the left" She pointed out the directions quickly. "I'll wait for you out here when you're done"

"Thanks…Mary" Rebecca squinted at the nurses name tag before quickly hopping to her feet and hobbling out the door.

They felt sore. She'd fallen asleep in her heels. Unless she could go back home and change them she was stuck with this painful option for the night.

_Home huh?_

She sighed as she stepped into the ladies toilets. Baker Street may not have been the house she'd been born and raised in but…

A small smile graced her features as she washed out her hands, a particularly good memory of breakfast that morning splashing over her mind.

John was sitting with his morning newspaper as the twins practically demolished their cereals. Sherlock meanwhile sat at his spot at the table, in his favourite dressing gown, not eating but staring into space with his fingertips pressed together as he argued loudly with her about the various symptoms of an obscure mental disease as she washed up the dishes in the kitchen sink.

It was nowhere near the nice quiet mornings she'd spent with Gwen back at the Writing Desk, but it still somehow made her…happy…

She looked down at the gold ring on her finger and rubbed it carefully. It was a very simple but very beautiful piece and she felt slightly guilty that she was wearing it just to pretend.

_I'll give it back to Sherlock when this is all over…when Moriarty is gone…Moriarty…Jimmy_

She gulped before looking up quickly to the mirror in front of her to check her hair.

But no sooner had her eyes flickered into her reflection –

She squeaked as she wheeled around but the smirking face and the brown eyes…weren't there…

_Thank god…_

She sighed in relief rubbing her hands over her sides as her phone rung out. She quickly scrambled into her purse for it and answered it hurriedly.

"Hello, Mycroft have you got the kids? Are you here?"

But there was no answer.

"Mycroft?" Rebecca gulped. "uh…anyone…hello?"

A nasally rattling breath had sounded in her ear.

"Uh excuse me? Who is this?" she breathed her fingers trembling so much that she could feel the phone shaking by her ear. "Who are you?"

" _I taught you to fight and to fly. What more could there be_?" the voice hissed and she shuddered.

_Those words…those words where have I heard them before? J.M. Barrie? But that voice…that voice…_

"Jimmy?"

"Oh, the cleverness of me!" Moriarty cried out happily.

Rebecca was about to quickly tear the phone away from her ear when she heard one of the toilet doors creak open slowly…ominously.

"Jimmy stop this! Stop this now!"

"Tut! Tut! Tut! Rebecca, Becca… _Becky_ " the sneer turned velvety smooth. "Never say goodbye because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting."

"Good I'll be glad to forget you."

Rebecca's lip trembled as she felt the presence of someone tall and massive tower behind her. She couldn't see their reflection…they were covered in the shadows and they were too tall to be seen and she dared not look up for fear of her life.

She took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her ears like a drumroll to the gallows as she put the phone back up to her ear.

"I'm listening"

"Good Girl" Moriarty purred. "Now listen very carefully Becky…I need you to do something for me? Something very important."

"such as…" she shut her eyes and waited with bated breath.

"Be a dear and pass the phone to Sherlock"

"Huh?" her eyes flew open as a familiar warm pair of large hands gently slid her mobile out of her grip.

"What do you want?"

Sherlock's deep voice sounded rather terrifying in the small dimly lit space and Rebecca shuddered.

Moriarty however sounded pleased.

"Aww…don't be like that Sherlock. It may be a while before we see each other again" he half whined half squealed "I do hope you won't miss me too much. But don't worry…I've left behind a few little puzzles for you to play with until I get back"

"I look forward to it" but Rebecca saw the dark scathing glower that crossed over the detective's face.

"Give all my best to your dear doctor"

There was a beeping sound as Moriarty hung up on his end.

Sherlock stayed silent for a while his thumb the only part of him that moved as he shut off the call.

He felt something shift against him and he looked down to see Rebecca tilting back away from him so that she leaned against the bathroom sink counter top.

She looked faintly like she was going to be sick, though her face didn't look in any way pale or green.

"That…that…how dare he even talk about John after he-he-" Rebecca scrubbed at her eyes biting her lip to hold back the snarl that was threatening to explode from her.

"John will be fine" Sherlock's eyes narrowed down at her, shrewd, calculating.

She gulped. He was trying to read her again though this time there was a flare of something dark and cold in his eyes.

Her eyes darted to the sides quickly but Sherlock leaned forwards, placing both hands on either side of her, pinning her between his tall form and the bathroom counter.

"Sherlock…" She tried turning away from him only for his fingers to deftly grab her chin and tilt her head up to meet his eyes. "no…please…"

"The truth Becca" Sherlock growled, his free hand grabbing her wrist as she made to push against his chest. "All of it. _Now!_ "

But she shook her head.

"Let me see John first"

Sherlock let loose a tiny growl of his own as he leant into her ear.

"I won't let _you_ near him till you tell me the truth"

"I'll scream" she trembled

"No you won't" Sherlock's voice was so quiet it was barely a whisper. Rebecca felt Goosebumps rise on her skin as his fingers traced delicately down her throat from her chin, to rest at her pulse point.

His fingers tensed.

Her pulse was fluttering rapidly almost as fast as a terrified rabbits.

"If you lie to me I assure you I will not hesitate to make you regret everything"

"Sherlock…I-I can't…if I do you'll…you'll"

"I'll what?"

"Hate me…" she breathed a tear trickling down her cheek.

"I'll be the judge of that" he pulled away but he didn't remove either of his hands from her.

Rebecca kept her eyes fixed on the lapels of his black tail coat he was still wearing.

"I…I was a kid when it happened…"

Sherlock almost had to strain his ears to hear her.

"I'd come down to London for a swimming tournament to represent the school. Free-stroke and butterfly I used to do."

"And your _dear_ _Jimmy?_ " Sherlock spat venomously. "Where does he fit into all this?"

Rebecca shut her eyes and nodded her face now a mask of shame.

"Oh let me guess he broke your poor little heart?"

"NO!" Rebecca looked positively horrified.

"No…We'd met before at other swim meets. He was strange…but he was nice…at least that's how he started out." Rebecca swallowed. "We were from different schools and he was a year above me but we still found time to be friendly and talk to one another. Then one day…when I was eleven…I came up for the regionals in London. This kid, Carl I think his name was, had joined Jim's swim team that year and..."

"And?"

"Carl…he was a brilliant athlete…but he was…terrible. Up himself and stuck up…even had a little gang of cronies following after him at his beck and call."

"He bullied you?"

"No…he didn't really care much for me. I was just a kid from another school I didn't really know him." She bit her lip and Sherlock's gaze hardened. "But he was mean to Jim…kicked him around the locker with the other boys, called him…really horrible stuff. I tried to stop them whenever I caught them at it but obviously I couldn't be there all the time. So Jim…he…he…"

She gulped down a lump in her throat.

"I should've known, should've seen the signs. I had seen Jim getting angrier and angrier every day but I never thought he'd…"

"You never thought he'd go so far" Sherlock's voice was back to being quiet, but it had thankfully lost its icy edge.

She nodded tremulously.

"It was the last day of the regionals. I'd just come out of the change rooms when I saw Jim holding Carl's sneakers and putting something in them…I don't know what it was but it looked like a cream or a liquid of some kind. He said he was just playing a prank to get back at him so I let it slide. Then…later in the afternoon the regionals ended and we were all invited to have a _free fun swim_ in the pool to celebrate. I was trying to find my teammates to swim with when this hand grabbed right here at my hair"

Rebecca quickly gestured to the back of her scalp.

"And pulled me down into the water." Rebecca shut her eyes and tried to take a deep breath but it came out sharp and shallow instead. "Carl…I don't know what happened to him but one moment he'd been swimming along just fine and next he was struggling beneath the surface and dragging me down with him. I would've been a goner if my swim coach hadn't pulled me out of there. They couldn't save Carl though."

"And what was Moriarty doing throughout all this?"

"Jim was worried at first when I was pulled up. He really was…but he was also happy when they dragged Carl's body out." Rebecca felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end as she remembered the wild excited look in those strange brown eyes. "It was really creepy, everyone else was freaking out but he was so calm with everything. He even laughed when we were at the changing rooms _'So what did you think Toffee?'_ He said to me ' _good trick or what?'_.

"I-I tried to get away from him. But he kept following me everywhere. To bathrooms heck even to the place my team was staying at! Eventually I told him to stop and that I was going to go to the police and tell them everything… then he…he…to me…at the pool…"

She reached up a hand to her throat a tear streaming down her face.

"It hurt so much, and he was stronger than me. I tried as best I could but he just kept dunking my head under the water, over and over until I couldn't breathe. He said he was going to keep going until he broke me. I eventually promised him I wouldn't tell anyone about what he did and he let me go. So I did. I ran, I…I ran all the way back to the lodge. I took my bags and everything and hightailed it back home. I was even chased down by a mugger in an alley way on the way to the station. The train smelled like piss, and I walked home from the bus stop an hour away from my house. Right there the middle of the night, no one to protect or chaperone me. How's that Sherlock Holmes? How's that for the bloody truth?"

Sherlock stood in silence gazing down at the angry tears of the woman in front of him, a strange bubbling pit of shame was stirring inside his gut though he wasn't sure why.

Other people had been angry at his scepticism before and it had not affected him in any way at all…but Becca was not like other people, Sherlock could see that now. Not that it made him feel any better, only more confused.

He opened his mouth to apologise but he found his throat strangely constricted.

To cover up his ineptitude for finding words he quickly fumbled with his tail coat, bringing it from around his shoulders to rest over Rebecca's. She had goosebumps all over her skin and it felt cold to the touch. That added to the fact she had probably not eaten or properly slept for the past few hours…It was no wonder she was feeling so bitter.

Rebecca couldn't help the small flush as she felt the soft material surround her as she pulled the sides of the black coat around her. Sherlock's body had been exceptionally warm.

She felt a pair of hands grasp tight at her waist and gasped as she was promptly lifted up to sit on the counter top.

"Don't move" Sherlock muttered his hands trailing down her calf, pulling up the soft but ruined hem of her green dress.

She winced as he gently tugged off the ill-fitting pale gold heels from her feet tiny droplets of red staining his fingers.

"You shouldn't have even been walking in those tonight. They're one size too small." Sherlock frowned at the culprit shoes that he now tossed across the tiled floor. He gently tried to pull Rebecca off the counter again but she stopped him.

"I'll be fine" she hissed as the cuts stung, finally exposed to clear chilly air.

The pain was especially fresh when she applied her weight down to the floor, her ankles rolling inwards and her knees buckling.

He caught her quickly keeping his arms secured around her as she hobbled towards the door.

They forgot however the small step.

Sherlock only just managed to position himself under Rebecca before they both crashed heavily to the ground.

To anyone looking it would have seemed like there was a black and white marble statue covered in green moss had suddenly thumped into the floor. But thankfully the corridor was empty.

Rebecca craned her head up groggily as did Sherlock who raised his eyebrows, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

"Well…that went well"

He smirked as she giggled softly, though it was quick to fade.

Her face was so close again. So tantalisingly close, he could see every single lash on her green hazel eyes, every single happy crinkle in the skin around her eyes. His eyes dropped to her lips. She'd washed off her lipstick some time ago, but the natural pinkish tones were still moist.

Rebecca made no move to get off. She was spellbound by the look over his face. So focused, but different to how he usually assessed things. That gaze he used for his deductions was cold and calculating, this was a scorching fire that seared into her very soul.

Her eyes slid shut.

Sherlock wondered at this as a lone thumb reached out to trace over the parting of her lips. Moist like he'd predicted but also surprisingly incredibly smooth.

He wondered just how smooth.

He leaned into her.

It was a mere brush of skin against skin, barely enough to classify as the smallest of kisses and yet both of them felt a tingle run through them at the contact.

_Fascinating…_

Sherlock leaned into her again this time making sure that their lips were planted firmly together before starting to break apart.

But before he could get a grip of himself Rebecca pressed herself even further against him and his mind slipped away into blissful blank nothingness.

His hands automatically reached out to grip at her jaw tilting her head back as their mouths almost fused together into one.

She was wonderfully soft and warm against him and his brain was overcome with the soft smell of her hair, cypress and citrus it was.

He could feel his mind palace begin to crumble away beneath him but for once he was in no hurry to fix it.

Sherlock's eyes snapped open as Rebecca tore herself away from him. He slowly sat up his face a scowl as his body was now met with the cold air around them.

He looked up and saw her face was as red as a beetroot and she was spluttering frantically.

"Oh my god we're s-so sorry! We didn't mean to…oh goodness! Are you alright?"

Sherlock shot up as a loud clatter sounded on the ground close to his ear. He turned.

Molly Hooper was standing just a few feet away, her clipboard dropped to the ground, and her eyes full of tears.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man...I thought I felt terrible about shooting John before but now I'm torturing Poor Molly. (and I really like her she's a sweet spunky little thing X3). anyways I've been looking for an excuse to bring her in and I finally got round to doing it! yay.
> 
> blah blah, Peter Pan references somewhere in there blah blah sorrz if characters are OOC blah blah blah you get the gist of most of my disclaimers.
> 
> Keep R&Ring for more


	16. A Spoonful Of Sugar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sherlock discovers that John's friendly advice actually works out for him...to some degree...

When John Watson opened his eyes, the room was dark but not pitch black. There was still some light coming in from the corridor window.

His shoulder hurt but it seemed strangely numb. Rather like his mind.

_Morphine_

He surmised blearily as he turned his head to look around the medical room. Sure enough on his wrist was a series of drips.

But there was also a shadow just beyond.

He could barely move but the beeping of the heart monitor suddenly spiked up in alarm as the dark head of curls looked up, sharp light eyes piercing through the dim room. Damn! Sherlock could sometimes strike such a scary figure under such dark lighting.

_Sherlock?_

“Oh…it’s just you”

“Obviously”

“How…long have I been out?”

John sighed, his heart rate slowing down somewhat as his flatmate quietly dragged his chair over to his bedside so as to talk closer.

“Twelve hours. You got through the surgery well enough. But they want to keep you here for two weeks under supervision and then you’ll have three months in a sling and then-”

“Three more months of gentle rehab and healing” John finished looking up at the ceiling “yes I’ve been shot before I know the drill”

“But you don’t like it?”

“Of course I don’t like it” John snorted “bloody boring sitting around and not being able to do anything while you’re in pain”

Sherlock looked faintly amused.

“Well at least this time you’ll have company”

“hmm?”

“Well you’ll have Mrs Hudson, Tabby, Teddy, Becca…and I…”

“Oh yeah…true” but then John paused as he caught sight of the detective, whose ears had promptly turned pink. He mulled over the words just said.

“All right spit it out”

“Spit what out?”

“What happened between you two while I was out of it?”

“Between what two?”  Sherlock snapped irritably as his bedridden friend smirked wide.

“You and Becca?”

“Why do you think anything happened?”

“Because, one you blushed when I said her name,”

John’s grin widened as Sherlock stiffened and leant back in his chair so that his now fully pink face was obscured in shadow as Mycroft’s voice wafted through his brain.

_Hide! If he can’t see it, it doesn’t mean it’s true_

“Two you’re in plain denial again and three because I saw the two of you flirting in that ballroom”

“We weren’t flirting-”

“You were going to kiss her in the middle of the dance floor you sap!” John chuckled. “Both Mycroft and I saw it as did...probably the whole of parliament?”

Now he’d really hit the nail on the head as Sherlock cursed softly under his breath. Forget the government, Mycroft witnessing him in any kind of sentimental situation. That just spelled disaster.

_Damn! All he has to do now is hear about that kiss, if you could even call it that, and he’ll set our parents onto me faster than-_

But he paused in thought as John cried out eyes bulging.

“YOU ACTUALLY KISSED HER?”

“…crap did I say that out loud?” Sherlock groaned running a gloved hand over his face as John burst out laughing.

“Oh god! You’re serious?! You and Becca! GAHAHAHA!”

 “I kissed her so what? Besides it was an accident.” Sherlock coughed “It won’t happen again.”

“Yeah. Yeah _sure_ it won’t” John rolled his eyes as he lay back down on his pillows

The detective gave a scathing glower that usually would have made his flatmate cringe though now it only made his grin wider than ever.

“Sherlock…seriously…there’s nothing wrong with enjoying kissing a woman you like. If anything it’s perfectly natural.”

Sherlock’s frown deepened as he sat with his fingers pressed together like usual. Did he like the kiss? A part of him felt like he should delete the embarrassing image from his mind at once, but another part of him was also strongly protesting against this course of action.

 Something buzzed in his pocket and he quickly pulled out his phone to see a text.

_Just settled the twins to bed.  I’ll bring them to see John tomorrow. How is he? – RM_

“Becca?” John grunted. Sherlock nodded as he began to type back.

_John is fine. I’m talking to him now. I won’t be coming back to the flat tonight – SH_

_Alright. Do you need me to bring anything for you in the morning? – RM_

_Just a change of clothes and my laptop. Don’t mess up my sock index – SH_

_Only if you promise not to put dismembered body parts in my fridge  – RM_

The corners of Sherlock’s mouth twitched upwards as he typed back.

_Deal - SH_

“You should go back.” John’s voice was soft and drowsy as Sherlock looked up at him frowning.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah…Besides I’m going back to sleep. And trust me when I say you’ll be bored out of your mind when I do”

“You have a point there”

“But…”

“But you’re up talking now”

“Just go you idiot!”

“But I just told her-”

“Then make up an excuse” John rolled his eyes. “Tell her…tell her the nurse sent you away to let me rest or something.”

But Sherlock gulped a little as he looked nervously to the ground.

John sighed.

“Sherlock look. I know I’m not the best guy when it comes to dating or women-”

“true though that break up with the last one you were with was in no way you’re fault” Sherlock shrugged.

John groaned “just shut up and listen. Sherlock you’re going to have to face Becca sooner or later anyway and take it from me you’d rather do it sooner. It’ll save all the trouble in the end”

Sherlock opened his mouth to speak…but shut it hastily before quickly typing on his phone again.

_Change of plan’s, John’s nurse just kicked me out I’ll be taking a cab back to the flat.– SH_

 

* * *

 

It took a maximum of forty five minutes to get back to 221 Baker Street. It usually took Sherlock Holmes thirty minutes but unfortunately at this time of night there were fewer cabbies cruising by on the roads, not to mention it was raining heavily.

He sighed as he re-entered the building and quickly made his way up the stairs, shaking out his head slightly to help remove some of the excess water dripping from the ends of his hair.

Everything around him was quiet. Mrs Hudson had gone to bed a long time ago so nothing from downstairs and Tabatha and Theodore were already in bed. Rebecca too for that matter.

He opened the door to his flat and strode in quickly shedding off the soaked white waistcoat and shirt with a flourish.

There was a rustling of material from behind him and he quickly turned his hands pausing in the middle of untying his white bow tie.

He stared blankly.

Two little figures were cuddled up on the sofa both in their pyjamas; one set pink the other set blue.

Sherlock’s gaze softened as little Teddy rolled over to spoon with Tabby who smiled contentedly at the sudden warmth that his body heat provided.

_Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump._

Sherlock turned his head just in time to see Rebecca pad her way into the room with blankets in her arms. She was wearing a plain pair of grey track pants and a red angry birds T-shirt.

As soon as she saw Sherlock she stopped and gulped.

“Oh…you’re back?”

Sherlock frowned.

“I did send a text”

“I left my phone in my room”

“…oh…I see…”

Sherlock’s eyes narrowed as Rebecca blushed, quickly turning to gently drape the blankets in her arms over the twins on the couch. Neither of them stirred though there were small soft sighs of contentment from under their breaths as they quietly clutched at their new coverings.

After quickly smoothing down the ends over both smaller pairs of feet Rebecca strode into the kitchen.

“Umm…would you like some tea?” she asked lightly as she reached around to one of the higher cupboards.

“Yes please. With two sugars.” Sherlock quietly made to stand by the table and watch her as she stirred the hot water in the cups all the while keeping her back towards him. When she did finish up and finally hand him his tea her eyes were focused solely on his hands.

His brow furrowed as she quickly took a sip of her own cup, leaning against the kitchen counter top.

Just what was with her? Why was she so embarrassed? Did the kiss affect her that much…if they could even call it a kiss…

 “John’s fine” Sherlock muttered into the silence almost causing Rebecca to jump a little. But she kept her composure.

“Yeah…I know…”

 “So how come you had to leave his side?” Rebecca bit her lip.

“The nurse thought I was…interrupting his rest”

“Oh…”

“Yep”

Another sip and another silence.

At the back of his mind Sherlock could hear John’s voice hissing at him.

_Just get on with it won’t you!_

Sherlock sighed and quickly put down his cup on the table behind him.

“…about what happened in the hallway…”

Rebecca’s hand stilled in mid-air, the lip of the cup barely touching her mouth.

She glanced up at him and felt her cheeks go if possible even redder than before.

It wasn’t the fact he was standing topless in front of her but rather the really intense look in his face that was half terrifying her half…doing something completely different…

She put down her cup to the side, afraid she’d drop it as her hands had started to tremble slightly.

“Sherlock…I’m…I…” she quickly looked around and caught sight of the clock on the microwave. It was five forty six in the morning already.

“I think I need to go to bed” she tried to sidle past him but Sherlock caught her arm fast and tugged her back into place in front of him.

“Sherlock no”

Sherlock’s eyes narrowed as she tried to tug her arm away with her other hand. He caught that one too in his grip and held her steady.

“Look at me”

“No” she hissed.

“Becca…I need you to look at me” his grip on her wrists tightened ever so slightly as she shook her head eyes turned to the ground.

 “I…I can’t”

“Why not?”

“You’re the detective you figure it out” she shut her eyes as a shudder ran up her spine.

“You know I can’t…at least not with you” Sherlock sighed heavily.

She gulped as he leaned forwards. But at the last moment he tilted his head so that he was leaning into her ear instead.

 “Do I repulse you?”

“N-no…”

“Then why do you turn away from me? ”

“Sherlock what happened between us…I don’t really know…it was just an accident. That’s all it was” Rebecca sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than him.

 “If that’s the case then…” Sherlock pulled away but still made sure that the tips of their noses were barely millimetres apart “if I were to kiss you again it wouldn’t bother you?”

“…Just one kiss?” Rebecca bit her lip as she inhaled one of Sherlock’s hot breaths against her face, but she did not make a move away.

“Just one. And if it doesn’t work I swear I will not touch you like this ever again”

Rebecca remained silent but the determined look she gave him was most admirable.

It was like she was trying to prove him wrong.

But Sherlock knew he was right. She was affected by all this just as much as he was. The fluttering of her pulse in her wrists and the blushing alone were enough proof of that…as was the fact she’d just leaned in of her own accord and closed the gap between them.

Sherlock had to admit he wasn’t ready for that. Nor was he ready for the rush of warmth that spread through him like a tingling wave.

But before he could make sense of what was the cause of the tingle Rebecca skimmed her tongue over the slight parting of his mouth before retracting slightly so that her mouth opened a little bit.

An invitation?

Sherlock’s cautiously pressed his tongue into her mouth and was relieved when she accepted him without any hesitation. He was quick to grab her waist tight and pull her in closer to him. It marvelled him how they were on totally opposite ends of the spectrum, she was curves and softness and he was angles and sharpness, and yet they somehow seemed to click together like a key to a lock.

He could faintly feel her hands wrap around his neck to grasp at his shoulders and hair tight, though the slight pain did not in any way lessen his appreciation. Indeed it was heightened. The sensations that were running through him were sending all his brain on absolute overdrive as it struggled to process all the data flooding though his mind.

_Uses spearmint toothpaste, loves aroma enriched oils for her skin, her nails haven’t been manicured because she hasn’t had the time to do them, but her hair has been tended to by a comb, probably one with thin but sharp teeth as most of the strands are quite neat and- oh god…oh GOD!_

He gently pried his lips off of hers his eyes wide as they stared over her dazed face.

“I can see you…”

 “huh”

Rebecca’s eyes slid open quickly though it took a moment for her brain to compute his words

When she regained her focus she started slightly.

Sherlock was full blown smiling at her. It wasn’t his usual small smirk nor his tiny smile of amusement but a full on wide triumphant grin.

“I…can …finally _see_ you…Rebecca”

“What do you…oh…” Rebecca blushed deeply. “y-you can?”

“Yes…now I can”

“Sherlock…” her voice was barely audible and it was only because her face was so close to his as he leaned in for another go just as the sounds of footsteps hit their ears.

“Well I’ve just finished with those dolts at administration so the paper work should have gone through by…tomorrow…”

Sherlock turned round, the light from his eyes vanishing in a split second to be replaced by almost white hot fury as he looked upon the wide eyed gawking face of Mycroft Holmes.


	17. Double Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rebecca discovers just how infuriating both Holmes brothers can be...sometimes...

“Shit! Mycroft! What are you doing here?” Rebecca squeaked with a small jump, but Sherlock did not release her from his hold.

There standing stock still in the entrance to the kitchen was Mycroft Holmes. His face was pale, his jaw had dropped and his blue eyes were wide like saucepans.

 “You could have knocked” Sherlock hissed quietly sounding eerily like an irritated rattle snake. However inside his head he was completely seething.

_Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! SHIT!_

“You could have gotten a more _private_ room” Mycroft sneered back his shock quickly melting away into something akin to disgust

“This was private till you burst in” Sherlock snapped back as his brother rolled his eyes.

“This is a kitchen”

“My kitchen”

“It’s still a rather public space”

“It’s still my apartment”

“It’s Mrs Hudson’s property”

“But I live in it”

“There are children in the next room”

“They’re fast asleep they won’t see a thing”

“Hopefully not, you’re interactions with Miss Monday were rather inappropriate”

“Technically they aren’t considering she’s supposed to be my wife”

“Your _pretend_ wife. Don’t tell me you two are actually beginning to believe your own lies”

“If you are implying that I am losing myself to sentiment you are sorely mistaken”

“I was not implying Sherlock” Mycroft’s eyes narrowed as they scornfully looked up and down his brother, noting his current half-dressed dishevelled state “I’m saying it straight”

There was a short pause as both brothers glared each other down, a vein in each of their temples twitching.

“Well then if that’s all you have to say then I guess you should run along Mycroft. As you can see we are very… _very_ busy. Now Becca where were we? Ah yes now I remember.” Sherlock smirked a wicked glint in his eyes, as he quickly grabbed Rebecca by the waist again and swiftly swooped down on her before she even knew what was happening.

Mycroft recoiled at once at the open display of “affection” as Sherlock promptly forewent the simple playing of lips and dove straight in for tongues. Rebecca didn’t know quite what to do with herself. It had been a long time since someone, man or woman had kissed her so intensely.

Usually it had been her taking the lead or her on top but with of course when dealing with Sherlock Holmes everything in her world turned topsy turvy. Now all she could do to keep her legs from buckling beneath her from the sheer voracity of his body as it pressed forwards was to grip his arms tight. She could feel his body taught, tight and…and…

“Well, well brother mine I never knew you were such an exhibitionist!” Mycroft coughed loudly.

Rebecca squeaked and at once wrenched herself away from Sherlock who rolled his eyes in exasperation as he turned to look at Mycroft.

_Damn! It didn’t work._

“I’ll give you both a moment to settle yourselves. But when you are finished please come back into the lounge. Promptly this is a matter of national importance”

Sherlock’s eyes flashed for a moment with undisguised anger when Rebecca quickly put a hand on his shoulder.

“Enough” She bit her lip as Sherlock and Mycroft turned their attentions on her. “Why don’t you both just chill and sit down or something…please…”

She looked up at Sherlock at this last request and her eyes were wide and pleading.

Mycroft’s nose wrinkled with revulsion as he caught sight of the slightly softer look his brother gave his _pretend_ sister in law as he pulled away from her carefully.

Sherlock was quick to catch the expression and scowled darkly.

“Now what?”

“Boys” Rebecca narrowed her eyes as Mycroft opened his mouth. It was such a dangerous look that both of them shut their mouths as they took seats on the opposite sides of the dining table.

Finally after a deep soothing breath Sherlock muttered tersely.

“You have a case for me?”

“Actually no.” Mycroft clipped his eyes suddenly swivelling to Rebecca who was still standing. “A case for your _dear_ wife as a matter of fact”

“Which is?” said dear wife crossed her arms.

Mycroft pushed forwards his black briefcase onto the tabletop and opened it to reveal a shiny, sleek expensive looking black laptop which he promptly took out and turned on.

Once it had finished starting up completely he plugged in a small flash drive and turned the machine around to face them.

A portrait of a woman stared at Sherlock and Rebecca from the screen. She looked rather pretty what with her lovely coffee coloured skin and luscious dark hair but her expression was severe and her clothes strictly professional. So professional that there was not a hair nor pin out of place.

Mycroft gently slid the laptop back as Sherlock’s fingers twitched to quickly commandeer the keyboard.

Oh how he wished he could screw around with Mycroft’s machine…it would truly be the ultimate payback of all time and the highlight of his year.

“This is Mrs Magdalene Dawson ex CEO of the Flexton Mining Company” the elder Holmes droned in a bored tone. “Last month she retired from her position after her company was charged with lawsuits in response to several catastrophic workplace related accidents and staff bullying”

“Oh, hang on you mean like the thing on the news where that poor guy-” Rebecca’s eyes widened but Mycroft steamrolled over her in exasperation.

“Yes, yes that accident but that’s not the issue here Miss Monday” he quickly turned the laptop round and his fingers flew across the keyboard as he pulled up another file.

“Anyway she moved to America with her husband and now she is living in one of those gated communities in Connecticut. A _charming_ little place called Sunny Hill”

Sherlock gave a positively derisive snort at this.

“And what does this have to do with anything.

“See for yourself”

He turned the machine around to show them another image of Magdalene Dawson next to her original one. The change could not have been more startling. She was wearing a pretty and purple flowery printed dress cut just like it had come from a 1950’s fashion catalogue, and her hair was let loose with a girlish ribbon tying the front bangs back.

“So she got herself a makeover and has turned her life around for the better big deal” Rebecca rolled her eyes as a pang of envy hit her. How she wished she could look so carefree.

“You’re not looking hard enough Miss Monday” Mycroft’s eyes narrowed in annoyance as he quickly zoomed the picture into the woman’s face.

The smile she wore on her face was wide and toothy and it would have seemed happy had it not been for those oddly blank emotionless brown eyes.

“Ok…I admit that is…weird”

“Not only has Mrs Dawson undergone some intense physical changes but also some rather radical personality changes. Any ideas as to how this may have happened?”

“…No…no I don’t…”

“I thought not. Not even the best psychologists in the world could guess what has happened.”

Rebecca gulped her ears turning pink. It wasn’t as if it was her fault that she wasn’t as observant as the Holmes’s. Besides…it had been difficult to see her face when it wasn’t zoomed in.

Sherlock didn’t understand why but he felt a white hot flash of resentment when he saw his brother smirk with derisive smugness at Rebecca’s slight humiliation. But she kept herself calm and as professional as possible.

“So why bring it to me if I’m not one of them?”

“You just answered your own question yourself Rebecca” Mycroft’s eyes narrowed “you _aren’t_ them…”

“That is still not a valid reason Mycroft” Sherlock’s eyes narrowed once more as he leant back in his chair.

“Very well then if I have to spell it out for you” Mycroft sighed as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a page of paper.

He slid it across the table at Sherlock, whose expression turned if possible the darkest Rebecca had ever seen.

It was another illustration. It was of a beautiful woman in rags subserviently scrubbing at the floor in front of a blazing hearth whilst several figures in the background, dressed in elaborate gowns, were looking down on her with sneers on their faces.

“Oh god no” Rebecca shut her eyes and turned away from the image, as a large lump caught in her throat.

 “No! No how can he even think I’d play along with his…after what he’s done. He deserves to rot in silence!”

“He refuses to talk unless you accept this case”

 “No I won’t do this! I can’t!”

“Oh yes you will.” Mycroft hissed as he took out the flash drive from his computer, which he promptly tucked back into his briefcase. “because if you don’t I will personally make sure that all protection for your dear Reenie will be removed within the hour.”

“Mycroft” Sherlock growled as Rebecca’s face turned pale but Mycroft continued on ruthlessly.

“Or if you’d like I could take your custody of my niece and nephew is turned over to their rightful _biological_ relatives and make sure you’d have no visitation-”

“Mycroft enough. We’ll take the case.” Sherlock barked over the top of his brother who promptly stopped talking at once, though there was a smug smirk on his face.

“Good. All the details are on the flash drive as is your itinerary. You and your… _family_ are scheduled to leave in a month, but do try and read up your homework. I wouldn’t want _anything_ to go amiss with this mission. If the American CIA suspect our presence they might not take too kindly to us. And you know what happens when you rub the CIA up don’t you Brother mine?”

“Indeed I do _Brother_ _mine_ ” Sherlock bristled, the memory of the break in at Baker Street all those months ago only too fresh in his mind.

“Well now that that’s sorted out I think I should take my leave. I have an important call to take that I simply cannot afford to miss. Good day” Mycroft stood up and walked out the kitchen door.

Rebecca wished for nothing more than to take something heavy and fling it hard at the head of brown hair as it whipped around the corner.

Indeed Sherlock could see her fingers twitching towards her mug as she gritted her teeth.

As soon as they heard the front door distantly snap shut she finally spoke.

“Your brother…One of these days I’ll kill him.”

“You’re not the only one” Sherlock agreed with a grim smile as his hand reached forwards on the table to where the small black flash drive was sitting.

 “God…it’s six fifteen” Rebecca sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

“you should get to bed” Sherlock raised his eyebrows at her as she yawned wide.

“A bit rich coming from you.” she smiled at him tiredly.

“I’ve got a case” he waved the small flash drive in front of him.

“No, you’ve just got a big ego” she raised her eyebrows at him.

“Yes…which you didn’t seem to mind when I was kissing you” Sherlock stated swiftly, secretly enjoying the way she flushed a bright red.

 “How’s your head feeling? Inflated perhaps?” she scowled but avoided his eye as he made to tower over her once again.

“Try and deflect all you want” his voice dropped an octave as he looked down on her “I know now that you are _affected_ by me _._ Though I still need to find out how and why and trust me when I say I fully intend to rectify that as soon as possible.”

“I’d like to see you try” Rebecca quickly darted out from his arms before he could pin her back to the counter top again.

“Running away again won’t help you _Miss Monday_ ” Sherlock murmured into the still air that separated them.

Rebecca stopped at the threshold and turned back to look at him quirking a brow.

“Then catch me if you can … _Mr Sherlock Holmes_ ”

Sherlock watched as she held her head high, her hips swishing from side to side as she strutted meaningfully around the corner.

"The game is on...Miss Monday" Sherlock murmured his eyes alight and glinting.

Oh this was going to be fun!


	18. Mr and Mrs Holmes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a new case has started...and so has a new life in Sunny Hill...

Sherlock did his to resist the urges to snarl and turn the steering wheel hard so as to purposefully knock down the older woman that stood on the steps of the lovely large light blue house at the end of the driveway.

She was dressed in clothes that would've looked lovely in the 50's but now looked rather kitsch and repulsive. At least to his cynical discerning eye.

He didn't know how Rebecca, who sat beside him in the front passenger's seat, could bear to even smile at the woman who dithered forwards to meet her, her bright fifties curls bouncing behind her.

"Well hello there! You must be the Jones'." She smiled wide as she half squealed half sung with excitement. "My name's Claire Coba. My husband, that's Dale Coba is the one you spoke on the phone with at the agency"

"Well it is very nice to meet you Mrs Coba." Rebecca smiled back but not before glancing meaningfully back at Sherlock "You'll have to forgive my dear William. The jet lag makes him cranky"

Sherlock scowled as a chuckle and a pair of giggles reached his ears from the back seats. He turned back and glared at John, Tabatha and Theodore.

The three of them quickly sensed his gaze but instead of stopping they merely pursed their lips, still shaking with the giggles as they quickly made to get out of the back seats of the car. Sherlock was quick to dash out the side and quickly help John out as his injury was still rather impeding on a lot of his movement.

"Thank's _Bill_ " John snorted enjoying the way Sherlock's rolled his eyes darkly.

They'd been this way for most of the trip, constantly teasing him about the phenomenally ordinary name Mycroft had chosen for his alias. He'd tried to explain how William was actually not such an illogical choice as it was legally his first name but that didn't stop with the immature Bill or Willie jokes that came his way.

And people wondered why he preferred to be called Sherlock.

He felt envious of Rebecca. Like him she too was using her legal name, Genevieve, as her pseudonym. It had also been the name of hers and her sister, Irene's, mother Genevieve Monday nee Adler. Sherlock was still reeling from that revelation. God he should've seen the resemblance. Truth be told both sisters did look remarkably different, Irene was dark, slender and sultry and Rebecca was blonde, fuller figured but more sweet tempered…at least when she wasn't sleep or food deprived. But there were some rather blatant similarities he should have been able to recognise from two miles away.

One, his inability to read either of them at first glance. Second habits, particularly at the dining table. It had taken him a while of thinking to actually notice this particular point. He'd seen both women eat and drink at least once and their etiquette was uncannily almost exactly the same. Small habits like these and others were dead giveaways to a man like him. or at least they should have been.

Once he'd helped John grab the makeshift cane that his free hand he quickly shut the door and pricked his ears for Mrs Coba's and Rebecca's voices.

"Oh and aren't these two just precious" Mrs Coba simpered as Teddy and Tabby stepped out to stand with Rebecca who squeezed both of them by the shoulders gently.

"Tabatha and Theodore"

"Twins? Oh how wonderful. And by goodness isn't this little man just the spitting image of his father" Mrs Coba gasped with delight as she finally caught sight of Sherlock who was trying his best to stay inconspicuous as he helped John up the steps of the house.

"My brother John." Rebecca murmured in an undertone to Mrs Coba "he just came back from Afghanistan"

"Oh my dear how awful"

John and Sherlock shared a look with each other slightly bewildered by how easily that cover story was spewing out of their flatmate's mouth. As it would seem suspicious that John simply stay with them with such an injury, Sherlock decided to use the same cover story they'd used at Dartmoor as well as past information that Mycroft could easily forge without rousing much suspicion. And so once again John was playing the part of the bachelor Uncle, not that he minded much.

Indeed he had to marvel at the luxurious house they were going to accommodate.

It was a blue and white trimmed Victorian styled and double floored with a dark roof with a wrap around porch.

The inside was just as nice, though it was huge.

"When you called, my husband and I knew this was the perfect fit for you." Mrs Coba smiled excitedly as she opened the door with a flourish leading everyone into a lovely little entrance hallway with white painted walls and a rich wooden floor that seemed to run through the rest of the floor. In front of their eyes were a tall wide staircase with a half landing, that led up to the upper floor.

"Now this is the foyer, and right here to your right is a study" the woman smiled widely at Sherlock who nodded back silently. "And to your left, oh let's go this way, to your left here is the living room and dining room"

They walked into a lavishly decorated space from which light was streaming in through the open windows which opened out onto a dining room with a long table at the far end, which they walked into.

"And here is the kitchen. Now you are very lucky because this has just been redone over and refurbished with top of the line appliances"

Mrs Coba looked towards Rebecca at this but nothing more was said as they were led another sitting area. This whilst just as extravagantly decorated as the living room, was a little more relaxed and had a large television on one end, and a large pair of glass double doors that looked out onto the deck and back garden outside.

"The family room. For when all of you would like some good old fashioned family time. And right through there's the laundry"

Once again Rebecca was given a rather pointed look which Sherlock quickly noted down in his mind. He continued to take note of every single glance the woman made to each of the family members in turn depending on each rule and soon he noticed the pattern.

Every time they passed a closet, a linen cupboard, the kitchen and even the garden, all the glances were shot at Rebecca, and every time they walked past the television room or the study or even the small workshop in the garage, the glances were turned towards either him or John.

_Interesting…_

He mused, though his thoughts were almost drowned out by relief when the woman made to leave through the front door.

"And if you need anything feel free to call. Genevieve I will be coming to pick you up later tomorrow at ten, the Sunny Hill girls are just dying to meet you."

"Of course bye! And thank you so much"

Rebecca quickly gave a small wave watching intently as the woman made her way to her own small little red car before driving off. As soon as she was gone Rebecca snapped the door shut and sighed heavily.

"Finally"

She wiped her brow and made to walk to the family room at the back where John and Sherlock were both sitting. Sherlock seemed to have taken a spot rather close to the glass door and had his eyes shut and his fingers darting around in front of him as he perused his mind palace. However John was still alert and willing to converse.

"Tabby and Teddy are upstairs" he smiled, when she looked worriedly around.

"Good" she flumped into a nice high-backed chair. "By god that woman has a set of lungs on her!"

"Oh well you can't say she wasn't thorough"

"True." Sherlock's voice cut between, them. They both turned and saw his eyes were open and his fingers pressed together.

"Did you find what you were searching for?" Rebecca asked.

"No I was merely filing away data" Sherlock shrugged "Mrs Coba was a most interesting study indeed"

"If by interesting you mean she was like the most perfect and shallow submissive little fifties house wife. Then yes I suppose she was" Rebeca snorted and Sherlock's eyebrows rose up.

"Oh you noticed?"

Rebecca scowled at him. "Sherlock I may not be as good at…whatever it is that you do, but I can tell when someone is being condescending"

"Maybe that's Mrs Coba's way of just being friendly?" John looked around at his two friends half confused half irritated, but Sherlock shook his head.

"No John. Every single time we passed something associated with domesticity, Mrs Coba always turned her attentions towards Becca and not to either of us. Now what does that tell you about her values?"

"She's…" John frowned for a second and then a look of comprehension dawned on him "oh right…she thinks that you are-"

"Yep" Rebecca scowled "She thinks I'm going to be a little Barbie doll wife like her"

"Well if it makes you feel any better you could always blame Mycroft for dumping us here. Oh speak of the devil"

Sherlock grinned as he looked down at the text message.

_Very funny Sherlock. Now if you wouldn't mind getting down to your job – MH_

He quickly showed his flatmates the message making the both of them chuckle loudly.

Sherlock's face softened slightly as he caught sight of the suddenly carefree smile that flashed across Rebecca's face. It was certainly a hundred times more preferable than that stupid monkey grin of Mrs Coba.

* * *

Rebecca giggled as she danced and pranced in the little white slip towards the large four poster king sized bed that stood at the far end of the master bedroom. It was so huge that her entire body barely made a dent in the nice firm mattress.

She flumped down on the rich red silken duvet and stretched out happily.

She could never remember ever being in a room this nice. She didn't count the room at the Ritz in London. No that was very posh and beautiful but to her it had been missing that wonderful warm feeling that only a home could have.

She was so wholeheartedly happy that even Sherlock's grumpy burst into the room did not bother her.

"Whatcha doing?" she rolled over onto her stomach and rested her head on her elbows, as the detective rushed to the base of the bed where both their trunks were and rummaged around noisily inside his own.

"Just collecting some necessary equipment" he grumbled but not before pulling out a black leather violin case, which he quickly set on the floor and opened.

"You brought it with you?"

"Of course. It helps me to…" Sherlock looked up. "…think…"

Rebecca was leaning over the edge of the foot board, on all fours on the bed, her arms pressed in such a way against her sides that her ample cleavage was pushed up ever so slightly from beneath the rather small garment she wore.

He almost cursed the way his eyes automatically followed the curves of her hips and her thighs which spread apart behind her for balance, though his sharp mind was quick to find other meanings behind the action. Most of them were definitely not helpful to the small pink flush of his skin or the sudden tightening of his abdomen at all. He wondered faintly if she was aware of her provocative stance?

"Sherlock?" Rebecca tilted her head but Sherlock just continued to stare blankly at her, his pupils blowing up so large that they almost over powered the verdigris irises.

"Sherlock are you ok?" She reached forwards and touched his forehead, wiping away a few curls from his forehead.

At the feeling of her skin on his Sherlock quickly shook his head and growled irritably.

"I'm fine!"

He quickly jerked away from her touch and set to picking up where he left off with inspecting his violin.

_Blasted woman with her tiny clothes and…and that hair…and those ARGH! NOT THOSE BLOODY DOE EYES!_

Sherlock hissed at himself internally as he chanced a glance in Rebecca's direction only to be greeted by a pair of wide deep blue green hazel eyes.

He felt his insides squirm as mind palace Mycroft called out from behind a desk in a dark room.

_Must not engage in further physical or social interaction any more tonight…unless you want to become an animal like most other stupid me-_

"Sherlock what's wrong? is it broken?"

Sherlock quickly looked down into the violin case in a brief panic. However every string was in place and every piece of wood shining brightly with polish.

"No it's fine" he clipped as he gingerly took out the bow from a small compartment of the cases blue velvet interior. "Though it might need some tuning"

He quickly stood up and turned his back on Rebecca who shook her head fondly before crawling back to the head of the bed and slipping under the covers.

"Don't stay up too late alright" she mumbled.

"I won't" Sherlock assured her but she yawned and rolled her eyes.

"Yes you will. You have a case to follow up on don't you?"

"Then why did you ask me not to stay up?" Sherlock plucked and played a couple of the strings with the bow in one hand and his other adjusting the tuning pegs.

"just trying to be considerate" She shrugged. "All this time you've been sticking your neck out for me…I just wanted to do the same for you…"

"Why?" He raised a brow at her curiously.

"well…" Rebecca turned her head into the pillow. "…we're friends"

She shut her eyes as silence was her only answer.

Oh well it was true. She didn't care what Sherlock thought about her. Despite that little kiss from a month ago, nothing really had changed between them. Perhaps they were not as close as him and John, but nonetheless they were friends...weren't they?

As she began to nod off into a doze, she faintly heard the violin strings being plucked in a staccato tune before abruptly stopping.

She pulled the duvet tighter around her as she heard the faintest of clicks and then the dip of the mattress to her side.

"Sherlock" she stiffened as she felt a pair of long arms wrap around her from behind.

"Shut up it's cold" Sherlock grumbled as he buried his face into the soft toffee golden waves, allowing the soft smell of citrus and cypress filled his nostrils and carried him into blissful blank but warm nothingness.

Somewhere, miles away across an ocean and sitting in a small office, Mycroft Holmes grimaced with mounting disgust at the black and white image on his screen.

_Oh god…_

He almost gagged at the sight of his younger brother's attempt at spooning his pretend wife as they both slept.

_Sherlock…What are you DOING?_

* * *

 


	19. Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Sherlock, John and Rebecca unearth the first clues to this strange little town. only for more questions to arise

"Mr Holmes"

"Mr Holmes"

"Mr Holmes about the operation"

"Mr Holmes"

Mycroft Holmes sighed with relief as he shut the door to his large underground office in MI6 head quarters.

_Bunch of Bumbling Babboons_

He rolled his eyes as he turned on his computer. It had been one day since Operation Stepford had been put into place and the report from his brother should have arrived by now.

Indeed he was rewarded for his efforts when he saw not one but four different emails pop into his inbox.

He quickly opened up the first one and smirked as he recognised the name on the address.

"Well then brother mine let's see what you have to say for yourself"

* * *

Sherlock was surrounded in the darkness of a blissful dreamless sleep when he heard something close to his ear.

"Sherlock…"

"hmm?" he grunted not bothering to stir from his doze.

"I've dropped the kids at the school and I'm going to meet that Coba woman now, so I'll see you all later this afternoon."

"Try to remember that we are on a case." he grumbled cracking open an eye, just in time to see Rebecca's blurred face and hair in the corner of his vision.

"Ok ok I will" She rolled her eyes and quickly leaned forwards to murmur something softly once more, only for him to turn his head at the same time.

Their lips brushed ever so slightly and Sherlock smirked smugly against her mouth, holding her arms before she could make to move away.

"Whatever you observe you must tell me when you get back" his voice was almost a silken purr as the vestiges of sleep began to ebb slightly and clear his mind. Rebecca could not help the slight shudder that ran through her at the unnaturally close proximity.

"Or would you rather stay here and help me with my experiments? Though if you do choose that option you'd have to comply with all tasks that I ask of you"

"I…I think…I think…" Rebecca gulped a little as her eyes darted down to his mouth. But she was quick to steady herself "the case at the moment is more important"

"Quite correct." Sherlock's mouth twitched upwards and leaned back allowing her to finally pull away. His eyes were quick to dart over the rather soft light blue summer dress. It fitted her well and swished nicely around her legs, especially as she now made to dart out the door, but not before he noticed the deep flush of her cheeks.

_Interesting…, just mere close physical contact is enough to get her hot and bothered…_

Sherlock quietly slipped out of bed and pulled on his blue dressing gown, just as the door to his room opened.

He quickly turned and saw John, also in his pyjama's but with his arm still in its cast and sling. He was giving Sherlock a very odd look indeed.

"What?" Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

"…nothing…" John replied airily. "just wondering whether you're awake or not"

"Well as you can plainly see I am" Sherlock scowled before standing up.

"Come on we have work to do"

* * *

John Watson sighed heavily as he shovelled an omelette into his mouth with his free hand.

"So remind me again why are we here buying our lunch when we have a perfectly stocked pantry and fridge back at the house?"

"Because we need to start our observations right away. Becca already has her job set out for her by meeting the natives. The least we can do is scope out the environment and the rest of the ecosystem"

"Sherlock we're in America. Yes it's foreign soil but it's not like the people here are a different species altogether."

"might as well be" Sherlock mumbled as he took a sip of the cup of tea he'd been served by the diner's waitress, a blank and dumb creature with straight black hair pinned back by pink hair pins and a wide smile plastered to her pretty made up face.

The detective almost wretched while as quietly as he could spat the horrid mouthful of hot brown water back into his cup.

John looked up from his plate of food to check if the chef at the counter had seen his customer's behaviour, only to see three men stride into the diner each carrying golf bags and caddies.

Sherlock quickly snapped his head around to look as well.

Each of the men were rather average looking, one even balding a little on top of his head on which a black visor was set.

All three of them were wearing polo shirts and trousers all made of expensive materials, even their shoes looked top of the line.

"Wealthy much?" John muttered.

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

 _"_ Obviously! Though two of them work in IT just look at their hands, one of them has a serious dietary issue, probably diabetes and another has a heart condition that needs looking at. The one on the left has a dog, small terrier, probably a long haired Jack Russel-"

"hey honey" one of the men suddenly called and Sherlock and John quickly leaned a little to see as a figure, whom they did not notice before, stride into view between the men.

She was a beautiful woman, with gorgeous auburn curls and warm brown eyes, and a killer body in a tight fitted short white dress that was making John's eyebrows shoot right up into his hairline.

But even as he turned to look at Sherlock he saw that his friend's eyes were nowhere near looking at her body. Indeed Sherlock only had eyes for her face.

"Sherlock…" John murmured as one of the men they were observing almost caught sight of Sherlock's imperious stare. "Sherlock they'll see you"

The detective begrudgingly turned back to face him, pretending to drink his tea whilst looking at the woman through the corner of his eye.

"Odd" he muttered through gritted teeth.

"What is? What did you see?" John hissed.

But Sherlock stayed silent and merely put a finger to his lips as one of the men came striding towards them.

Sherlock noted he was the one that had the heart condition, as he wore the pink shirt and the white trousers.

"Why hello there" he cheerfully smiled at the two of them "I don't think I've seen you two around before"

"No indeed" Sherlock stood up giving a small fake smile and the man started slightly. John couldn't blame him. The man was a short round fellow whilst Sherlock was a whole head taller than him and in that nicely tailored black suit of his with the crisp white shirt all matched up with that deep masculine tone, all three of the strange men present were put to absolute shame.

"William Jones" Sherlock held out a hand and gave a small, but fake smile. "My family and I just moved here yesterday"

"Arthur Sunderson, and this is my wife Sarah" the man, Arthur relaxed as he returned the gesture, quickly jerking his head towards the beautiful woman behind them who gave a tiny wave as she continued to smile.

"So Brits huh? We don't get a lot of foreigners moving here. Ah and this must be your partner"

It took everything John had in him to not howl out like an angry beast and shake Arthur down angrily.

How many times did he have to tell everyone he was not GAY!

Instead he forced himself to chuckle, though it rather felt more like choking.

"no…brother in Law actually."

"Ah!" Arthur nodded knowingly before turning back to the other two men who snickered in their spots.

"Is something the matter?" Sherlock asked politely, though John could see that his interest was piqued.

"Oh no it's nothing." Arthur quickly coughed to compose himself "It just means that your missus is being broken in by Clair at the Sunny Hill Spa"

"You know Mrs Coba well?"

"Of course I do…but so does everyone in the neighbourhood. She's Dale's wife"

"Dale?"

"President of the Sunny Hills Men's Club Association" one of the other men piped in still grinning. "He kind of runs this entire town."

"Great guy. A real leader" the other man said and Arthur nodded.

"If you have a problem you can call or go to him and Dale will fix it no matter what"

"Well he does sound like a helpful fellow" Sherlock smirked thoughtfully "Tell me what is this _Men's Association_?"

"Oh it's just a club, y'know just for us guys in the town, we all gather together at the club on the hill just there-"

He pointed out the window up to a large green hill in the distance where a great big old estate was standing tall and impressive over all the rest of the houses.

"-and we hang out. Every man in the town here automatically gets a free lifetime membership when they move here with their family. Since you moved in yesterday you'd probably get your membership cards…the day after tomorrow maybe?"

"Oh well that should be nice then Sh-William" John quickly caught himself just in time.

"Yes it would be John" Sherlock smiled back at his friend though his eyes were cold with irritation.

The rest of the conversation was fairly normal after that. Arthur, Pete and Wallace (the two other men) asked Sherlock and John about themselves and the family they were with, though both were careful to maintain their cover stories.

Eventually Sherlock managed to get John talking about his time in Afghanistan, and as quietly as he could he slipped out into the men's room where he turned on his phone.

He had several new texts all from Rebecca.

_How is your day going? – RM_

_Did you find anything yet? These women are so boring! – RM_

_Need to exchange notes soon? I think I do – RM_

_Do you think you could pick me up soon? These women are really starting to creep me out – RM_

_I don't think I can take any more of these women they're driving me up the wall – RM_

_Sherlock please stop ignoring me. I really need to get out of here ASAP before I strangle one of them! – RM_

"God you must be desperate" Sherlock smirked as he stepped out of the men's room and tucked his phone away.

He felt someone's eyes on him and he turned to see Sarah Sunderson smiling at him. he would've pretended to smile back however he paused and his eyes widened.

_What on earth?!_

Instead of the usual stream of data a series of question marks surrounded her body.

* * *

Rebecca could not remember a time when she thought she'd ever be tempted to commit a massacre. But she was definitely feeling the urge now as she sat in a beautiful garden, at a large round table set out for high tea with what had to be the dumbest, shallowest excuses for women on the face of the planet!

_Now I know how Sherlock feels_

She sighed half wishing she knew where the drinks cabinet was in this place so she could spike her own tea with super strong whisky.

"Is there something the matter dear?" Clair Coba asked sweetly but Rebecca merely smiled and said in that same sweet and sugary voice she'd been using for the past few hours.

"oh no, it's just he jet lag from yesterday I will be fine"

_When I hang you all from nooses!_

She took a sip trying her best to ignore the excitable squeals from the other side of the table as several women fawned over the latest cleaning products, Tupperware and the latest recipes they'd learnt to make.

Now Rebecca had no problem with all that, but she would have thought that after three hours of talking with these women that they'd eventually move on to something that whilst may not have been so intellectual, would have at least had some emotional substance.

And seriously what was it with their clothes. They all seemed to be stuck in weird slightly perverse and tight versions of fifties fashions. Even Rebecca's plain dress looked more modern.

She felt something tap on her shoulder as several identical gasps suddenly sounded around her.

She quickly turned round and was met with the buttons of a black suit.

"Oh you're here" She smiled with relief as Sherlock raised his eyebrows down at her as he pulled her up to stand. "One moment plea-"

She almost thought she'd die of heart failure when he suddenly leaned in and planted a swift kiss to her cheek in full view of all the women who all simpered and giggled girlishly at the sight like schoolgirls.

"You're late" She hissed into his ear quietly.

"John and I were busy collecting data" Sherlock smirked "Though I see you've had your hands full"

"Yeah, yeah. Just hurry up and get me out of here"

"..As you wish." But then he added now loud enough for everyone to hear. "Forgive me. But I'm afraid I must be stealing my wife back. We have children to pick up and dinner plans to attend to this evening"

"Oh how wonderful" Claire smiled joyfully "I do hope you enjoy yourselves. Oh and Genevieve do tell us when you're planning to hold your housewarming party. You're the first newcomer we've had in years and there are plenty more people who I'm sure would just love to meet you"

"Oh yes" the other women tittered and nodded enthusiastically, a couple of them whispering loudly.

"Oh! Should I bring my melon tarts or the strawberries?"

Sherlock almost grinned at the strained smile on his fake wife's face.

She was just dying to crack at any moment now.

 _Might as well be kind. She did put up with these vapid morons for three hours_.

"Y-yes I'll keep you informed. Though it might take a few days till we're sure we're all nice and settled" she managed to squeak as Sherlock quickly tucked her arm in his and pulled her away gently.

"Of course see you next week" Claire called after the pair as they rounded a hedge.

As soon as they were out of sight, Rebecca sighed heavily.

"Jesus!"

"Are you alright?" Sherlock smirked down on her as he led her past a large series of red rose bushes.

"Apart from the fact that I was tempted to stab twelve women with a sharp butter knife, I think I'm doing great" Rebecca gulped.

Sherlock chuckled. Rebecca was perhaps the most doting and morally sound woman he'd ever met. And whilst most of the most interesting of killers were never what they seemed, somehow the thought of her committing such a crime was just too ridiculous to ever imagine.

"Becca the day you murder someone will be the day Mycroft becomes a sentimental fop and gets married"

"alright you have a point there" Rebecca nodded before running a hand through her hair. "but seriously it was horrific. All those women are just so…so…ugh it's like sitting in a room with robots that play on loops and those smiles. UGH!" she shuddered and clutched his arm slightly tighter. "I feel like I'm looking at the Joker"

"The what?" Sherlock raised his eyebrows down at her.

"He's a comic book villain from the Batman franchise. he's supposed to be this ultra deranged but brilliant psychopath who looks like a clown on steroids and likes to basically cause chaos wherever he goes just for the hell of it. he also has this strange desire to be the Batman's arch rival."

She blushed as Sherlock gave her an amusedly puzzled look.

"I studied him for one of my University assignments" She smiled sheepishly. "The professor wanted us to take two fictional characters and psychoanalyse them"

"Interesting…and what was the other character you chose?"

"Frankenstein's monster. By god that one was hard. Everyone else was doing stuff like the Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde and stuff like that"

"Well they are a rather classic example of Schizophrenia, even if it is a rather simplistic perspective" Sherlock nodded. "So how did Frankenstein's monster replace their seat?"

"Because he's so sad…" Rebecca smiled softly

"Ah…the pity for the poor little monster" Sherlock scoffed and Rebecca frowned at him and stopped at once in her tracks.

"Not pity Sherlock…sympathy yes but not pity. He was an artificial life form but he wasn't really a monster. In reality he was actually quite like a child. Innocent, naïve and romantic minded at first. But because of what he was, people shunned him and ostracized him even though he was trying to be kind and help them. As a result he became a recluse from humanity. It wasn't that he was born a monster…humanity turned him against them by rejection…and yet still after all that deep down he craved love and affection from another being"

"And if you were to meet such a creature as this in real life" Sherlock's voice was strained slightly as he looked down "What would you do for him then?"

"I…I don't know…" Rebecca gulped as she was fixed with the detective's piercing stare. "But I wouldn't want him to be alone"

"Why not?"

"Because…because…it's horrible…being alone…it's like feeling ice cold even when you're standing in the sun"

Sherlock stared at Rebecca his grip on her arm becoming gentle as she looked away from him, almost as if she couldn't bear to look into his face… and then it hit him.

"You really miss them don't you?"

"huh?" Despite herself Rebecca looked up into his face which was calm but solemn.

"Gwendolyn…your parents…your _sister_ … you miss them" Sherlock shrugged.

"…maybe…" Rebecca looked down to hide her face as she scrubbed at her eyes. "But it doesn't matter now. Gwen's got to lie low, Renie is off gallivanting somewhere again and my parents…well…what can they do they're six feet under. Oh yes, speaking of that, Clair just told me that apparently there is no crime or poverty in Sunny hills"

"What?!" Sherlock snapped right up to attention his brain suddenly whirring into action.

Rebecca nodded "yeah apparently they haven't even had a petty theft for at least nine years"

"And what of murders?"

But Rebecca shook her head. "Nope not even one"

"So their morgue-"

"Oh no, people still die" Rebecca assured him quickly "it's just that it's from natural causes like disease and old age. Though there apparently was one car accident three years ago. But it was just because of icy roads in the winter"

"OH GOD! You've got to be kidding me!" Sherlock groaned loudly.

"SHH!" Rebecca hissed quickly clapping her hand over his mouth "Ok! Ok I know you're upset but we'll work something out. I'm sure there are other things you can experiment on that aren't body parts"

"not that they'll be as interesting" Sherlock pouted, though his mask cracked slightly as Rebecca giggled.

"Oh Poor Baby" she mockingly cooed. However internally she had to pity him. At least she had the kids and John to distract herself with on occasion, but now his personal hobby was as good as gone and she knew he'd suffer without mental stimulation between observations.

She was jolted out of her thoughts when Sherlock put a hand to her cheek and stroked back a lock of her hair.

"Just a leaf" he explained when he caught sight of her surprise, but then she suddenly smiled.

"Sherlock…"

"Hmm…"

"Thank you"

Sherlock paused, his hand still in her hair as he looked down on her face. there was something about her expression that made him wonder if it was just for the hair she was thanking him for.

"You're welcome…Becca"

And he sincerely meant it, even though the only proof of that was the mere tiny upward twitch of his lips.

There was silence for a moment as they began to walk arm in arm again towards the gate entrance/exit to the gardens.

Just as they passed through the metal bars they heard John's voice from within the sleek black car parked on the road.

"About bloody time. What took you so long?"

"Just taking a stroll." Sherlock rolled his eyes as he opened the car door for Rebecca who grinned mischieviously

"Why? Afraid the creepy houswives will try to kill you?"

"I wouldn't put it past them" the doctor muttered darkly.

_Neither would I_

Sherlock privately agreed. The women of Sunny Hill were indeed quite terrifying in their own domesticated way.

_Oh who am I kidding?_

Sherlock grinned as he turned on the car's ignition.

_A town with zero crime and a group of strangely acting domesticated women that could possibly turn into serial killers? This is going to be fun!_

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the name of the case they're going to solve is?
> 
> *insert dramatic Drumroll*
> 
> TADA!
> 
> "The Stepford Wives" by Irva Levin
> 
> Though there are two movies (the original one in the 1970's and Nicole Kidman's version in 2004), I actually chose it because it's one of my favourite novels (yes it is a book kids). and even though it also happens to freak the hell out of me (lol XD) I still dig it. totally recommend it especially if you like thriller and suspense.
> 
> I thought it would be an interesting and unusual case for our favourite detective to crack. :)
> 
> Disclaimer: If there are any things you recognise from the books or movies then they belong to whoever owns the rights just as I only own the stuff I make up here on this page
> 
> Next chapter should be interesting as we delve into the shoes of Theodore and Tabatha Holmes and their first day of school in Sunny Hill. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed and keep R&Ring for more


	20. Chip of the Old Block

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It is not flesh and blood but the heart which makes us fathers and sons."   
> \- Johann Schiller
> 
> In which Sherlock discovers that there's more to parenting than meets the eye.

“Hey! Welcome…back…”

Both Sherlock Holmes and John Watson’s eyes widened as they looked upon the ten year old boy and girl who had just trudged into the front living room of the house just in front of Rebecca whose face was as white as a sheet as she locked the door.

Tabatha was looking alright but Theodore was looking like a train wreck. His T-shirt was stained with mud and his skin on his arms was bruised badly. Sherlock noted one bruise in particular was shaped like a small but hard fist.

“Jesus bud, what happened?” John asked worriedly folding up his newspaper and hobbling over quickly but Teddy only gave a nonchalant shrug.

“I walked into a pole”

“A pole with arms?” Sherlock raised a brow and Teddy looked down at his shoes.

“Yes” he mumbled.

Rebecca sighed and looked at both her flatmates who quickly got the message. That was obviously the same thing she’d asked and the same answer she’d received.

“Hey…” John said quietly sitting up straighter in his chair and reaching for his cane. “Becca why don’t you take him to the kitchen and get him some ice…I’ll come over in a sec and check him over”

“Good idea” Sherlock nodded but his eyes narrowed as he saw Tabby try to slink away. “In the meanwhile why don’t you stay with me Tabatha? I think it might be best if we don’t crowd the kitchen.”

The little girl gulped as he fixed her with a piercing stare, a similar one to the kind he usually used on clients and witnesses.

She nodded taking a spot at the centre table on which she cleared space to lay out her homework.

Sherlock watched her musing over the way she dutifully filled in her work at top speed, though it was often punctuated with careful anxious glances towards the kitchen.

He quickly returned to perusing his laptop for news in London.

A week had passed since their first official day of living the “dream life” and Sherlock was already incredibly bored.

There were no bodies in the morgue he could borrow to examine. All the people here were idiots; there was not even petty crime. Sunny Hills was indeed…a living nightmare…

Indeed if it wasn’t for his niece or his nephew’s accounts of their new school life he would’ve begged Mycroft to drag him back to Baker Street.

He’d been rather surprised to hear that Tabatha was actually rather popular amongst her classmates. Despite hers and her brother’s gift for observation, she was by far the more sociable one of the pair and had quickly made a small group of friends who were supposed to be coming over to the house warming party that weekend. The other thing about his niece that Sherlock noticed quickly was that she was also very much liked by the boys.

Not that he could blame her. He supposed it was only natural considering she looked so much like her mother.

Though Theodore by far was more like his mother in personality, at least his mother when she was his age. Quiet, shy, but he had a quiet confident strength that came from being intelligent and discerning of his surroundings. As far as Sherlock could see the boy was perhaps just as likable by normal conventions as his sister.

_So…who are the small shits that hit him then?_

“Tabatha” Sherlock looked up just in time to see Tabby jump a little from her spot on the floor.

“What happened to your brother?”

“I…I don’t really know Uncle Sherlock…” Tabby bit her lip and looked towards the direction of the kitchen. “We spent most of the day together in class. Oh no wait…that’s right PE! That’s right we were doing different activities. Ted was with the guys for baseball and I was with the girls for dance”

“And did he have the injuries before or after”

“After I think” but then she gulped. “It might have been Mike and his friends”

“And I assume this Mike is a bully in your year yes?” Sherlock’s eyes narrowed as Tabby nodded.

“Only with people he doesn’t like”

“And he doesn’t like Theodore?”

“No…he doesn’t” she mumbled but then added quickly her eyes almost imploring “But it’s not Ted’s fault that he’s smarter than him is it?”

Sherlock raised his eyebrows.

“…No…it isn’t…” he agreed pressing his fingertips together.

_Why should it be anyone’s fault if they are inherently more intelligent than others?_

“Do you have any idea of how this started?”

“Umm…” Tabby bit her lip and quickly scrambled over to sit on the arm of Sherlock’s chair before leaning to whisper softly just as John came walking into the room.

The doctor was just in time to see the detective’s look of surprise followed by a very intrigued smirk.

“Oh really? That’s very interesting…”

“I know right” Tabby grinned as she nodded slyly before quickly adding “Uncle Sherlock please…um…don’t tell Ted I told you…he doesn’t like to be teased…”

“You have my word” Sherlock nodded.

“Cross your heart, hope to die?” Tabby raised her brow.

“…Of course…”

Sherlock rolled his eyes as he made the customary cross over the heart.

Tabby smiled brightly.

“Right then I’m off. Gotta go”

“Go where?” Sherlock raised an imperious eyebrow.

“Bathroom Duh! Oh hi Uncle John” the young girl smiled up at the doctor

“Finish up quickly and be sure to complete your homework” Sherlock called after her as she skipped off down the hall and out of sight around a corner.

“Homework huh?” John chuckled as Sherlock shrugged nonchalantly.

“Tedious paperwork but it keeps the Teachers at bay. How’s Ted?”

“Completely black and blue. Multiple sized bruising namely around the chest and stomach” John sighed sadly “But he’ll live. He’s a tough kid”

“A group bullied him. All bigger than him I’m guessing”

“Yeah. Definitely bigger. but then again he is a pretty small kid” John nodded “…Sherlock…”

“Hmm?”

“Can you talk to him? He’s not saying anything to either Becca or me”

“And you think _I’ll_ make more progress?” and as he said it a strained look crossed over the detective’s face. “Believe me John I’ve tried this before…and I will tell you now _my_ involvement in issues like this doesn’t bode well for anyone”

 “What-no wait what do you mean by _not bode well_? Sherlock you’re a detective! You ask people, NO, you _tell_ people all their secrets and cover ups to their faces for a living! Surely you can help a kid open up about bullying issues?!”

“I can’t John…” Sherlock shook his head like a frustrated horse bothered by flies.

“Why not?!”

“Because…because…Argh! Because the last time I tried something like this, they ended up disappearing for ten whole without a word! And then they go and why”

John’s eyes widened as Sherlock leaned his head into his palm, pinching his brow

“Sherlock…”

Sherlock sighed heavily, inwardly berating himself.

Indulging in sentiment whilst on a case...Mycroft would do his nut in…

Thankfully he was spared any further enquiries as Rebecca walked in positively seething.

“He’s just gone to the bathroom to wash his hands” she quickly answered the unspoken question in both men’s gazes before groaning “By god when I get my hands on the parents of those kids responsible I’ll tear them to ARGH!”

“Yes I’m sure getting sentimental about it all will help Ted’s situation” Sherlock muttered rolling his eyes.

“Sentimental?! Of course I’m sentimental! He’s my kid Sherlock! Maybe not in the biological sense but he’s still my son! how do you think it feels to see him getting beaten black and blue like that?” Rebecca snapped, so harshly that John shrank back into his chair.

He marvelled at the way Sherlock was now sitting and eyeing her as calm as a cucumber his eyes darting over her face.

“…You’ve made your point…” the Detective finally muttered “But still that doesn’t mean that you have to lose your top”

He quickly stood up, putting a hand up to silence Rebecca who opened her mouth to retort.

“Stay here and make sure Tabatha finishes her work. **I** will talk to Theodore”

He quickly made to walk out of the room, shoving his hands in his pant pockets thinking hard.

Prior to accommodating his niece and nephew in his home Sherlock had very little experience to dealing with children. To him the average child was always just smaller adults with less inhibitions and knowledge but more honesty and intuition which was unfortunately lost in their teen years as they absorbed and replicated the stupidity of their parents in an attempt to mature.

However these were Holmes children and as a result, did not fit in with the _average_ majority.

He was quick to find Teddy who was sitting alone at the island in the middle of the kitchen, a large spacious room with dark wooden cupboards and black marble countertops and surfaces.

The boy was holding a cool pack to his upper arm in one hand whilst sipping a chilled lemonade from a straw in a glass.

He looked up warily as Sherlock made to sit beside him.

As soon as the detective poured himself a glass of lemonade he asked.

“Aunty Becca sent you to talk to me didn’t she?”

“No. I wanted to talk to you” Sherlock’s eyes narrowed.

“Why?”

“Because I’m fed up of having nothing else to investigate in this boring excuse of a town”

Teddy stared at his uncle in surprise. Sherlock hadn’t even batted an eye in his confession, nor indeed as he took a sip of his drink.

“So…what did happen today?”

Teddy took a deep breath.

“I was at my locker…”

* * *

The sound of the school bell was shrill and piercing throughout each and every classroom of Sunny Hill’s Primary School.

A thin boy with blonde curly hair and high cheekbones, wearing a dark blue tartan shirt over a baggy pair of black jeans, tried to look as inconspicuous as he could as he rifled through his locker to grab his books.

Other children were crowded in pairs or groups around him, chatting and laughing loudly, their collective body heat, warming up the already hot summer air.

The boy’s verdigris eyes quickly glanced up as the sounds of exceptionally raucous guffaws   wafted over the sea of heads.

Quickly assessing the slight dog ears already forming on the corners of the new lined exercise books cover, the boy stuffed his bag full of his homework and began to slide his way through the crowd.

The loud chortles of the boys grew louder exponentially as they closed in on his position. Keeping his eyes on his plain white trainers he quickened his pace, not noticing the distracted frizzy ginger haired girl that was currently set on a collision course.

In a loud thump, followed by a stream of flying books and papers both boy and girl fell back painfully onto their behinds.

 “Ow!” the boy winced as he sat up.

“Oh no” the girl squeaked scrambling around trying to collect the random scraps of paper.

There were quiet snickers as the other students managed to manoeuvre their way around the scene, not bothering to help the two crashers as they made their way down the hall.

The boy quickly snagged a sheet before a chubby third grader could step on it and handed it to the girl.

“Here”

“Thanks” the girl smiled widely revealing a lovely set of pearly white teeth that made her face shine and her light brown eyes sparkle.

The boy felt a small tingle of heat on his cheeks and quickly looked down towards the floor.

“Um…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you…”

“No-no! It’s fine! It’s my fault” the girl quickly stuttered her face turning slightly pink as she held out her hand “Lizzie McCallum Class 5A”

“Ted Jones…Class 5A also…” the boy, Ted, mumbled as he took Lizzie’s hand as she gasped in delight.

“Oh yeah that’s right! You’re one of the new smart kids from England”

“Uh…I think so…My sister’s smarter than me though”

 “Hmm. Somehow I doubt that” Lizzie smirked “So what are you doing now?”

“Uh…going home?” Ted pointed up to the clock at the far end of the hall just above the staircase. it was currently reading three thirty.

“Ah! I’m late!” Lizzie squeaked quickly jumping up to her feet. “Sorry I gotta run! Hey why don’t you sit with me in class tomorrow? I usually sit at the front to see the board”

“Um ok”

“Right! See you tomorrow Ted!” she waved brightly.

“Bye” Ted’s face turned beetroot red as the girl smiled once more before darting off down the corridor, just as several loud footsteps thudded from behind.

“Hey Jones” a boy’s voice sneered.

Ted turned around and gulped.

“Dawson…”

* * *

Teddy took a deep breath as Sherlock paused glass in air.

“Dawson…”

“Yeah. Mike Dawson… like that lady Uncle Mycroft wants you to find” Ted shrugged.

“I see…”

Both the twins were very well aware of the real reason for moving to America, not that the adults of Baker Street bothered to hide it from them. They were children but they weren’t stupid, and being what they were they would’ve figured it out anyway.

There was a silence in which both uncle and nephew sipped quietly at their drinks like two old men at a pub bar, all the while a small smirk creeping up Sherlock’s face.

“So…this Lizzie McCallum…she sounds…nice?”

“Yeah…yeah she is…”

Sherlock’s grin widened as Teddy’s cheeks flushed dark. Oh this was just too amusing to miss out on.

“What does she look like?”

“Light skin…got freckles…brown eyes…this orangeish red hair-”

“Oh so you like redheads?”

 “So what? You like blondes” Teddy scowled darkly.

Sherlock spluttered, spraying lemonade over the kitchen counter.

“Excuse me?” Sherlock coughed trying his best to compose himself.

“Well Uncle John’s blonde, and so is Mrs Hudson and so is Aunty Becca and you like having them all around”

“The colour of their hair doesn’t in any way denote my liking of any of them”

“Ha! I knew it! You do like Aunty Becca” It was Teddy’s turn to smirk as Sherlock’s eyes narrowed.

From when and where did this sharp cheeky little rascal suddenly pop into existence?

“If by _like_ you mean _tolerate_ her presence as my housemate then yes I do.”

“No you like her as in _like_ her” Teddy grinned.

“And why do you think that?” Sherlock drained the last of his drink in one large gulp.

“You always try to be close to her when she’s in the same room. You always apologise to her when you upset her, you smile whenever you get a text from her. Oh! And you also like to look at her especially when she wears a skirt”

Verdigris stared into verdigris as Sherlock and Teddy Holmes stared each other down evenly. Finally after a long moment the young boy narrowed his eyes.

“Uncle Sherlock…if you do like Aunty Becca…then don’t hurt her”

“And why do you think I feel inclined to harm her?” the detective’s tone was light but there was a cold steely edge to his eyes that had certainly not been there before.

Teddy gulped but held his own steadily. No…he had to make this point…He promised himself he would…

“I don’t know. But if you do…I’ll…I’ll make you sorry”

Sherlock’s eyebrows rose up into his own dark curls as he searched for hints that the boy was going to crack a smile. But nothing of the sorts happened. The boy was resolute in his decision…and Sherlock for all his amusement, could not fault him.

“Fair enough” he nodded but Teddy narrowed his eyes.

“Shake on it”

The detective sighed heavily. The Holmes family stubbornness, almost as infallible as their intelligence and more obstinate than any genetically inherited heart disease.

He pursed his lips as the young boy held out his smaller hand, but nonetheless he took it firmly.

Only when they let go did Teddy finally smile.

“Is it really that boring living here?”

“yes” Sherlock groaned. “How about school?”

“Boring. Everything is easy to do.”

“Thought as much”

“So does this mean I don’t have to go there anymore?” Teddy looked up hopefully only to have Sherlock’s shake his head.

“Not a chance. Besides…your Aunt would probably kill me”

Teddy snorted with laughter as his uncle rolled his eyes and ruffled his blonde curls.

Neither of them noticed it, but in the shadows of one of the corridors John Watson shook his head and smiled.

_Not good with children my foot! You big softy…_

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it. some uncle Sherlock fluff and Teddy gets a new friend ;)
> 
> Sorry I've not updated in a while but it took a while to think up ideas.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed and Keep R&Ring for more :)


	21. A Warm Welcome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A dog reflects the family life. Whoever saw a frisky dog in a gloomy family, or a sad dog in a happy one? Snarling people have snarling dogs, dangerous people have dangerous ones.”  
> ― Arthur Conan Doyle, The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MUST READ Warning for this chapter!
> 
> may contain some very HIGH TEEN content borderlining on Mature (I'm not sure if it is but just to be safe I'm also changing the rating to M anyway. just to be safe) Also if that is the case then be prepared for a little more gore and stuff in later chapters just thought you guys should know if you're going to be continuing to read.

"Argh! Curse this dress! Ahh dammit!"

Sherlock smirked as he sat on the edge of his bed, tugging on his black leather lace ups over his dark socks.

"Oh I do pity you sometimes. Honestly the amount of fuss you women make towards looking the way you do is ludicrously laughable" he drawled as he looked over his shoulder to the woman behind him who was struggling to pull up the last four inches of the zipper of a tight black dress.

"Says the full grown man who throws a hissy fit when his _sock index_ gets rearranged"

She smirked back at him taking derisive pleasure in the way his eyes flashed irritably though they were quick to melt into something more…intense as they began to wander to her half naked back.

_Curiouser and curiouser_

Sherlock tilted his head curiously to the side as she quickly blushed and turned away from him her fingers desperately scrambling for the tiny zipper which she'd lost hold of.

He stood up slowly, walking with cat like caution over the rug towards her. When he came up behind her he quietly slid his hands to her own pulling them down from her sides.

She stiffened at once and shut her eyes sighing heavily. Thankfully the dress she wore was pulled up enough so that her chest was not fully exposed. But flashing herself and Sherlock in the mirror was the least of her worries.

"Sherlock…"

"Hmm?"

She shuddered as the deep sound sounded close to her ear as a pair of much larger hands curled around her own from behind.

She opened her mouth to speak but Sherlock decided at that moment to murmur against her earlobe.

"Goosebumps and flushing on the skin…you're palms are sweating…your breath is hitching…your pulse is fluttering…you're enjoying this aren't you?"

She bit her lip. His lips were dangerously close to brushing against her earlobe but he was mercilessly hovering them merely millimetres above the skin so that they merely ghosted over. His hands too moved slowly away from her arms and to the back of her waist.

"I am not one of your experiments" she breathed as she felt his fingers take the zipper on her back and gently pull it up all the way.

"No" Sherlock hissed, his fingers trailing back to hold her by the waist. "but you are perhaps one of the most intriguing riddles I have yet found…and I do love solving a good riddle…don't you?"

It took all of her willpower not to sigh contentedly and melt back into him as he finally granted her a small graze with his lips on the side of her neck. Instead she chose to grab hold of his hands, leading them slowly over her body so that one rested just under her chest and the other just over her abdomen.

Sherlock's entire form behind her went as still as stone as she whispered.

"Well…aren't you going to do it? Aren't you going to explore…uncover all my remaining mysteries?"

She could almost feel the bob of his Adams apple from behind, though his hands made no further attempt to move over her.

"Come on then Mr Sherlock Holmes" she smirked suddenly turning herself around in his arms to face him. She leaned up to whisper against his lips. "Make your observations" and then she kissed him.

"hmm… _Becca_ "

* * *

Sherlock gasped, his eyes flying open as he shot up. The water in the bathtub around him sloshed and splattered to the floor as it spilled over the edges.

The dream…it had felt so real, so very…inexplicably...satisfyingly…

Quickly as he dared, the consulting detective darted out of the tub and quickly bolted into the deluxe shower which he set to be as cold as he could take it.

_NO! NO-NO-NO-NO-NO! I will not fall into this trap! I am above this! I am Sherlock Holmes and I do not succumb to petty temptations such as these!_

_But you just did…_

A voice purred at the back of his head and at once blurred images of toffee gold hair and of bare smooth pale skin writhing beneath him filled his mind.

_OH God!_

He felt his skin tingle all over as the muscles in his lower half tightened uncomfortably.

_The case…That's it it's just the case catching up with me!_

He tried to reason but his hands didn't want to listen as they flew downwards.

"She's just my flatmate" he sighed under the hiss of the lukewarm shower. But his hands did not make any move to stop what they were doing.

"She's just my flatmate…"

_But she's your wife_

The purring voice from before sneered.

"Pretend wife"

He gasped as he leant back against the cold wet tiles of the wall behind him, the cold suddenly feeling so piercing against the hot skin of his back.

_She's kind…_

"She's Gwen's best friend"

_She's accepting_

"She's _that woman's_ sister"

_She's a mystery_

"She's my client"

_Yes…she's **yours**..._

"…No…I can't do this-"

_You already are_

"But I shouldn't-"

_Why not?_

"Because I…I…Ghnn!" He bit down on his lip to stifle the loud groan that flew out of his mouth.

He'd never felt this intense before. Not even drugs had been able to make him this high strung. The only thing that ever came close to what he was feeling now was the sensation of the thrill of a really difficult mystery.

A small part of his brain, the part that took the shape of Mycroft, shook its head and sighed in exasperated haughtiness

_Didn't I say she'd only be trouble?_

"Oh piss off Mycroft" Sherlock gasped as his wobbling legs finally gave way beneath him so that he thudded hard onto the wet floor just as there was a sharp knock on the door.

"What is it?" He called.

"It's me"

Sherlock's face paled.

_Just my luck_

"You ready yet?" Rebecca sounded irritated but composed.

_All the preparations downstairs must've gone according to plan…finally…_

"Almost" he gulped down a breath to steady himself as she sighed in exasperation. "Just need a moment."

"All right! But be quick! They're all coming in an hour"

"I'll be out in five!"

Sherlock sighed in relief as he heard her footsteps move away from the door. He looked down on himself through the wet locks of hair plastered to his face…

"Shit"

* * *

"Sherlock everything's ready" Rebecca smiled proudly as she walked into the bedroom where Sherlock was busy tucking in his shirt into his black trousers.

"I don't see why we must entertain them in this house" the detective grumbled as he sat down to tug on a clean pair of black socks before adding shrewdly. "you're still not dressed?"

She'd done her hair and her make up but she wasn't wearing her evening outfit yet? Where was the logic in that?

"I'm going to do that now" Rebecca quickly made her way over to the en suite bathroom where she proceeded to quickly shed herself of the clothes.

When she stepped out a moment later she was dressed in a tight purple strapless dress.

_Thank god! It's not black!_

She paused as Sherlock sighed heavily

"What? Does it look bad?"

"We match" he smoothly deflected, simply gesturing down to his shirt. It was his purple one, one of his favourites but still it didn't stop the big scowl as he pointed to her dress.

Rebecca blushed.

"Maybe I should change into something else"

"Don't bother" Sherlock muttered straightening up. "Besides it'll work well with our cover. Nothing spells out married for a long time than spouses wearing stupid matching outfits"

"Oh right…" Rebecca's face fell as she quietly made her way to her black heeled shoes that were at the base of the bed.

She knew more than most other people that Sherlock barely understood the importance of filtering your thoughts from your head before saying them out loud but still…would it hurt for him to try once in a while?

Sherlock raised a brow at her sudden change in demeanor and tried to think of what he'd just done to upset her this time.

_You know for a supposed genius you're pretty thick when it comes to women_

A voice that sounded eerily like John snorted in the back of his mind.

_But what the hell did I say wrong? I only said that only **stupid** married couples wear the same…_

"Ah" Sherlock's eyes widened as comprehension dawned.

"hmm?" Rebecca looked back at him questioningly.

"Nothing" Sherlock coughed as she finished putting on a couple of accessories.

"You're still wearing it?" he added, glancing down at the braided band around her left ring finger.

"Oh" Rebecca gulped "Oh yeah…uh…oh I was supposed to give it back after the ball wasn't I? Oh crap, um here" she quickly pulled it off and held it out to him.

But Sherlock shook his head.

"No you keep it."

"But it was your grandmothers-"

"And she's laying dead in a grave six feet under all the way back in England. I hardly think she's going to miss it or wear it now, do you? Besides…It fits better on your finger than in that stupid little box"

Rebecca blushed a deep crimson as Sherlock rolled his eyes and quickly slid the ring back into place along her slender digits.

"Now" he grumbled shoving his hands into his pockets quickly "If that's all we have left to do then we should get going. We have _guests_ to entertain"

Rebecca couldn't help the amused giggle that burst from her. He looked like a grumpy child told to do his homework when all he really wanted to do was play outside.

Sherlock merely pouted at her frivolity and, hands still in pocket, bent his elbow out gruffly for her to take as they both made to walk out their bedroom door.

"Careful" he muttered when they came to the staircase.

"I know" Rebecca smiled leaning a little into his side.

"Just so you know I absolutely detest all those buffoons and their wives" Sherlock narrowed his eyes at the door just as the doorbell rang shrilly.

"So do I" Rebecca smiled and then quickly before she lost all nerve, she leant up and kissed him on the cheek.

Sherlock stiffened and his entire face turned red at once as he spluttered.

"What the-"

"For luck _Mr Jones_. You're gonna need it"

_And so am I…_

* * *

**Meanwhile in London…**

Mycroft Holmes's eyes were glued onto the email on the laptop screen in front of him, and his face was a mask of disgusted wrath.

"Seriously Sherlock what are you playing at?! This is a case and _she_ is a client" he muttered scathingly just as the door to his office opened.

A tall woman with dark curly hair, verdigris eyes and high cheekbones walked in wearing an expensive red dress.

"Honestly Porky, take a chill" Gwendolyn Holmes rolled her eyes at the sight of his face. "It was bound to happen sooner or later…"

Mycroft turned to his sister with a blank and worn out expression "you're really enjoying this aren't you?"

"Oh like you wouldn't believe, now budge up I want a closer look" Gwendolyn smirked as she dragged up a chair to sit beside her brother who bristled at her sudden closeness.

"If this all goes to hell you know I'm blaming you" he mumbled darkly but nonetheless he turned the screen around so that they could both watch.

* * *

"John?"

"GAH!"

John Watson jumped on his spot on the top of the top step of the staircase as a figure quietly crept up towards him.

However his gulp of terror was quick to dissipate into a sigh of relief as he caught sight of a familiar head of dark curls.

"Oh thank god it's just you!" he breathed as Sherlock sat down on the step below.

"Here" he held out his hand in which he held a glass of scotch.

"Thanks" John quickly took a swig of the alcohol. Oh god did that hit the spot.

"So what brings you to haunt this joint?" He sighed.

"Those imbeciles that's what" Sherlock growled and quickly took a large gulp of the amber coloured liquid in his own glass. "Pathetic idiots even by the usual standards. And you?"

"Those _women_ " John took another sip of beer before hissing "Seriously Sherlock I don't get it! What is with them? They're _supposed_ to be _happily_ married to their husbands but as soon as I entered the room they started piling onto me like bloody vultures"

"Maybe they like the image of the wounded war hero. God knows you're more interesting than half the morons downstairs their married to" Sherlock raised his eyebrows and John groaned in exasperation.

"That's not the point Sherlock! These women…they're just…I don't know there's something really wrong with them. It's one thing to be a docile domestic house wife but they're submissive and…and girly to the point of _insanity_! I don't know how Becca puts up with them on a daily basis"

"She doesn't" Sherlock mutters taking another sip of his drink "you should hear her complaining before she goes to sleep. She swears worse than a sailor"

"Hmm"

"What?"

"Nothing" John smirked over his glass. For someone who once claimed that marriage was a useless part of life, his flatmate sure was adjusting smoothly into domestic bliss.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes but before he could open his mouth there was a strange cry coming from downstairs.

"yippy kai yay! yippy kai yay! yippy kai yay! yippy kai yay!"

"What the hell?"

Both men quickly looked up from their drinks and quietly made their way down the staircase. Just as the woman's voice grew louder and faster.

"Do-se-do! Do-se-do! Do-se-do! Do-se-do!"

It took them less than five minutes to make their way across to the back of the house, however when they reached the large entertainment space they were instantly hit by a wall of people whose backs were towards them as they stood around something towards the centre of the room.

"Do-se-do! Do-se-do! Do-se-do! Do-se-do!"

Both Sherlock and John peeked through a gap between the head of a bald man and his wife and their eyes widened as they saw the auburn hair and red dress of Sarah Sunderson whipping around as she spun in circles now yelling at the top of her voice.

"yippy kai yay! yippy kai yay!"

"Honey! Honey it's ok-Sarah-"

"Well you don't see that every day" Sherlock muttered as they both watched stunned as the woman's arms flailed round her head like a windmill as her husband Arthur chased after her as she round and round and round and-

Thump!

There was a collective gasp as Sarah fell to the floor flat as a board and cold as a stone.

"Jesus" John breathed before calling out loud and pushing his way through the crowd "Excuse me! Excuse me! Doctor coming through"

However barely anyone made to move aside. John tried to jump up and down to look over their heads but Sherlock quickly ducked his head down. Through the legs of several people he could see Rebecca's purple clad body as she knelt beside Sarah Sunderson along with a man, whose face he could not see but whose voice he caught quite distinctly.

"Excuse me missus but could you please give us some room"

" _Missus?!_ " Rebecca gasped angrily as several pairs of arms that belonged to other men quickly took hold of her and dragged her roughly up to her feet.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed and he glared as he caught sight of the man that had offended her as he leant his head down so that it was visible to him finally.

His hair was dark and short but his eyes were bright and keen despite his age. He looked concerned but unlike everyone else about them he was focused and calm.

A little too calm.

"Alright let's see here" the strange man muttered before reaching out to the unconscious woman the lower half of her body the only part of her Sherlock could see at the moment from his vantage point.

His eyes widened as the man gave a swift twist with his hands and a small flash of light popped for a split second in the detective's eyes.

He winced slightly, the light burning a dark imprint on his retina's that kept appearing every time he blinked to clear his vision.

_What the -_

But before he could make any sense of his thoughts the man called out in that same deep voice.

"Arthur she's ok, why don't you just take her outside for some fresh air and some water"

"Wait just hold on a second" Rebecca called but Sherlock could hear and see the feet of the murmuring crowd begin to shuffle as they made to move away.

He quickly stood up and walked over to Rebecca who was still being held back by two small nerdy looking men.

"Hey! Let me go will you! we need to call an ambulance."

"Excuse me but I do believe you can let go of my wife now" Verdigris eyes narrowed and both men gulped. However they were quick to remove their hands from Rebecca before scurrying off back to their eerily smiling blonde trophy wives who were holding their drinks out for them to take.

"Calm down" Sherlock muttered in Rebecca's ear as he pretended to help brush her off.

"Calm down?" she hissed angrily at him "a woman fainted in our house after spinning like a crazy top and you expect me to be calm"

"Becca" Sherlock hissed back but at that precise moment the strange man from before came striding up towards them.

"Sarah's just dehydrated" he tried to say calmly "She's just drunk too much champagne and too little water that's all"

"Dehydrated?!" Rebecca cried out angrily, but John was quick to step in from the side.

"Um excuse me sir but I'm a doctor and maybe it would be safe if I could take a quick look, just to be sure, besides she did just fall down pretty hard."

"Oh yes by all means doctor. She's on the bench on the balcony with her husband" the man smiled and nodded to John who quickly made his way out to the balcony, leaving the three of them alone in their spot.

Now that they were close enough Sherlock could see that the man was as tall as Mycroft but built sturdily like John. His eyes narrowed slightly as he caught sight of the hands of the man.

_Army man…ex army though…enjoys carpentry-_

But at that precise moment a familiar woman's voice wafted high in the air.

"Dale! Dale!"

"Yes Sweetheart I'm here" the strange man, Dale, called out just as Claire Coba came bustling into the room.

"Oh darling I've been looking everywhere for you" she simpered kissing her husband on the cheek before turning to Sherlock and Rebecca. At once her face lit up with delight.

"Ah Genevieve how wonderful to see you. And William don't you look dashing"

"thank you Mrs Coba" Sherlock nodded politely as Dale's face suddenly lit up with delight and recognition.

"Oh there's no need for that William, Claire is just fine. And now I believe you've met my husband Dale"

"nice to meet you" Dale smiled and extended a hand.

"the pleasure is all mine" Sherlock smiled coldly as he shook the man's hand "And this is my wife Genevieve"

"Ah so you're the famous Genevieve my wife keeps talking about. My god you're even prettier in person"

Dale quickly took Rebecca's hand and brushed his lips against her knuckles it in gentlemanly fashion.

Sherlock didn't understand why, but the sight of Dale's kiss made his stomach churn nastily and his gut burn angrily. Needless to say he was very pleased to see that even though she was smiling, Rebecca's eyes were cold towards the man as she gingerly took her hand away.

"Thank you. And _thank_ _you_ for helping out earlier"

"Oh that, I'm so very sorry that something like this happened and at your housewarming party too"

"Well at least no one can say now that it wasn't memorable" Sherlock smiled lightly and Claire and Dale both chuckled.

"So William how are you liking Sunny Hills? Is everyone settling in?"

"Oh it's absolutely _charming_ "

_More like revolting_

Rebecca smirked as she caught sight of the almost murderous gleam in her pretend husband's eyes as he lied through his teeth.

"Positively relaxing, what with the fresh air and the sun."

_Positively hateful and boring. No wonder there are so many idiots!_

"Very different from London I'm betting" Dale smirked smugly.

"Oh _very_ much so" Sherlock agreed.

"And how about the children?" Claire asked Rebecca "How're they fitting in at school?"

"Oh they're settling in just fine. They're having an absolute ball." Rebecca smiled though Sherlock felt her hand tighten over his arm. No doubt she was remembering Teddy's bruises from the other day.

"I hope I'm not being too intrusive" Dale tilted his head as he addressed Sherlock "But we noticed that you haven't been commuting much since you arrived"

"Oh that's because William works from home. He's writing a book"" Rebecca smiled relieved that she could remember their cover story at the top of her head. She had to remember to thank Mycroft later on.

"An Author! How wonderful! We don't get many writers here. Tell me what is it about?" Claire was practically bouncing on her feet in excitement as Dale wrapped an arm around her calmly

"A Crime fiction novel" Sherlock said calmly "In which a detective comes to a quiet little country town in search of a missing woman, only to find that she is not acting as herself."

"Oh my how exciting!"

"Indeed sweetheart, most _fascinating_ "

Rebecca's stomach dropped like a stone.

That had certainly not been a part of the plan. Sherlock was supposed to be writing about a boring little historical piece about the life of a count during the Victorian ages.

There was a small pause in which Dale locked eyes with Sherlock who stared back as cool as a cucumber.

It was almost like watching two massive bulls trying to size each other up before a fight.

_Alpha male complex…interesting…_

The corners of Sherlock's mouth twitched upwards as he asked.

"And you Mr Coba? What do you do for a living?"

"Oh me? I'm retired" Dale smiled shrugging "but I do some carpentry in my spare time. Nothing big. Just chairs, bookshelves and a bit of furniture. Most of my bits and bobs I use in my house"

"And clutter up my living room" Claire chuckled patting his arm fondly. "I swear if it wasn't for the fact that I cook dinner I don't think I'd be able to drag him out of the garage"

"Well you do make a pretty deadly meatloaf" Dale smiled down at her.

"Well aren't you a very lucky man" Sherlock muttered taking a sip of his drink in his hand.

"And so are you William. From what I've seen Genevieve brews some of the best tea I've ever tasted" Claire smiled.

"Indeed she does" Sherlock smiled down at Rebecca who blushed a fair bit. Was it just her imagination or were his eyes just that little bit softer?

She quickly tucked her hair behind her ear and Dale's eyes were quick to follow her hands.

"What a lovely ring" he smiled.

"It was my grandmother's" Sherlock muttered quickly glancing at Claire's left hand on which sat a white gold band sat. It was immaculately kept.

_Happy marriage then…_

He almost winced with disgust as Claire made to coo loudly once more.

"Oh Dale didn't I tell you they were so sweet"

"Hey Dale! Dale!" a man's voice cried out from the distance.

"Excuse me" Dale quickly smiled at all three of them before darting off.

"Oh that man! Well I'm going to go get some more punch. I'll be seeing you both later I'm sure" Claire smiled brightly before bouncing off to join a group of women standing close by.

"Well that was interesting" Sherlock muttered softly to Rebecca who replied in an undertone.

"More like disturbing. Did you see that flash of light earlier?"

"When Dale tended to Mrs Sunderson, yes I believe I did"

"Did you see what caused it?"

"No but I intend to find out what did" Sherlock smirked as he quickly checked his phone. Only one text message.

_Meet me outside ASAP. Found something interesting – JW_

Sherlock quickly glanced over his shoulder. Several of the men were standing a little way away and eyeing Rebecca's skin tight dress with very bright glints in their eyes.

He felt the small burning feeling in his gut intensify.

"Come closer" he whispered.

"Huh? Ah!" Rebecca squeaked a little as he quickly pulled her by the waist to stick close to him.

"What are you doing?"

"Those men have not stopped looking at you since Sarah left the floor" Sherlock muttered.

"So?" Rebecca hissed as he rolled his eyes at her blush as he quietly dragged her out of the room.

"They have no valid reason to be looking at you"

"And what would you classify as a valid reason?"

"Just keep moving" Sherlock growled.

"Fine…wait hang on where are we going?" Rebecca looked about her.

"Balcony. John's got news. Oh speak of the devil" Sherlock raised his eyebrows as John strode in from the balcony towards them.

"Sherlock, you've got to see this" he quickly held out his phone from his pocket.

On the screen was a picture taken close up of Sarah Sundersons ear.

"Zoom in on the ear canal" the doctor said before Rebecca could open her mouth.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed as he took the phone from his friend and zoomed in.

There…just inside the lip of the tragus a glimmer of metal wiring.

_Like a kid in a candy shop_

John shook his head as the detective's eyes widened.

"Sherlock…are you ok?" Rebecca whispered as Sherlock face split into a very wide triumphant grin.

"Oh I am better than ok Becca! _So_ much better! HA!"

_O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the plot thickens...
> 
> Anyways please read the warning at the top of the page above it's VERY important if you want to continue reading.
> 
> anyways keep R&Ring for more :)


	22. Of Monsters and Mysteries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I felt emotions of gentleness and pleasure, that had long appeared dead, revive within me. Half surprised by the novelty of these sensations, I allowed myself to be borne away by them, and forgetting my solitude and deformity, dared to be happy."
> 
> ― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

"Are they gone?"

"Yes"

"Thank the bloody lord!"

 _Mr and Mrs Jones_ both fell back down into their bed and gave a shared sigh. It was midnight and it was only just then that Rebecca had just peeked through the window to see a blue car drive away from their driveway.

"Shoes" Sherlock groaned at her as he made to do away with his own pair by using his toes.

"Yeah! yeah" she grunted. There was the small thumping as a pair of black pumps hit the floor.

Sherlock smirked at her.

"Well…You look exhausted"

"Hark who's talking"

"Well you can't deny it wasn't a fruitful evening?" Sherlock shut his eyes. "One suspect and that strange device in the ear of our dear Mrs Sunderson."

"Yeah…that was pretty interesting wasn't it? What do you think it was?"

"Could have been an implant or a hearing aid" Sherlock muttered.

"But?"

"But if you look closely enough the wiring was not in a device, it was sticking out of her ear canal. And no ordinary person would be able to survive something interfering with their body like that. For one thing, if something was lodged that deep, her sense of balance would constantly be off. And from what I have seen of her before tonight she has no problems functioning like a normal human being…well at least not physically"

"Maybe, John's right then" Rebecca mumbled.

"hmm?"

"They are psycho robots"

"Psycho Robots?" Sherlock snorted. "Becca the day that happens will be the day Mycroft announces he's getting married"

"My what a tale to tell the children that will be" Rebecca smirked burying her face into her pillow. It was a good thing their room light was off because she was in no mood to get up to turn it off.

"Children?" Sherlock's body stiffened beside her.

"I was kidding! Why you want some of your own?"

"I'm pretty sure I've got my hands full with just my niece and nephew thank you very much"

"hmm…"

"What is it this time?"

"You" Rebecca's smirk softened. "You actually like children don't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about?" Sherlock rolled his eyes.

Rebecca shook her head fondly.

"Sherlock you may be a genius but you are shit at lying"

"I'll have you know I am a remarkable liar when I want to be" Sherlock sniffed haughtily.

"Oh I beg to differ, oh great consulting detective who always steals the first of Mrs Hudson's biscuits even though he claims that they have too much butter in them to be edible."

Sherlock scowled, though his cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

"How is it that you are good at noticing those kind of things when it is proven that you are only slightly more intelligent than the average woman? AH!" He cried out as he felt a slender hand twist his ear painfully.

"And how is it mr Holmes that you are an arse when it comes to dealing with people when you claim to be such a genius?" Rebecca smirked as she continued her painful assault on the detective's _sensitive_ ears.

"Alright, Alright you win! I'm sorry" Sherlock hissed.

"Good" Rebecca giggled sleepily, her grip on his ear changing into something softer.

Sherlock was about to berate her for not relenting her touch when he felt her fingers stroke over the helix of his ear, before tracing feather light down the skin. He paused, his mouth stilling in mid opening only to change into a soft contented sigh as she begin to rub in gentle circles on his earlobe.

Sherlock could feel his eyelids suddenly becoming very heavy.

"Wow, you're really enjoying this aren't you?" Rebecca smirked her hand pausing as she stopped.

"Just shut up and keep going!" Sherlock grumbled grabbing her wrist and coaxing her hand to continue its task.

"Ok but only for a minute or so" Rebecca yawned, her hand continuing its lazy course over Sherlock's ear. He shut his eyes letting the physical sensations wash over him in his lethargic state.

Her hands were so warm…so nice…the pressure of pads of her fingers just right against his skin.

Rebecca could not help but admire the man laying down beside her as he quietly slipped into sleep.

Even though he never looked old to begin with, Sherlock looked positively youthful now, even more so than when he got that boyish gleam of excitement with a new case. He was completely relaxed, so content; his face slack and devoid of all its usual cold tension as the dark curls haphazardly fell over his face and splayed out over the pillow.

If this was Sherlock relaxed then she wondered what he actually looked like when he was happy. How different would that be from the usual glee from solving or getting handed cases?

And this made her ponder as she stroked his curls away from his face, exposing all his features so that they stood out starkly pale against the shadows of night.

When was there ever a time she'd ever seen Sherlock truly smile? Or laugh? She tried to rack her brains for any signs of any such action but she was quick to notice that in all the three months she'd stayed with him, all Sherlock had done really…was shut himself away from others until a crime was sent his way to distract him, or until someone needed his help.

She remembered how proactive he'd been when helping Teddy those couple of days ago, how quickly he'd jumped at the chance to help his nephew at the first moment's notice of how content he'd been after seeing the positive effects of his actions.

_Why do you try so hard to pretend to not be human…when you are so plainly such a good person…_

She also remembered that morning just before Henry Knight had first come in about the Baskerville Hound. Sherlock had said that when idle his mind ran through his thoughts…well even his logic would have some limits wouldn't it? And after he'd passed all logic what would he then have to think about?

Rebecca bit her lip as the realisation hit her like a strike to a gong.

It wasn't boredom that Sherlock needed distraction from…it was himself and his own emotions… from his isolation…

_"Ah…the pity for the poor little monster"_

She shut her eyes as his mocking voice echoed in her brain, but nonetheless it did not cloud over her memory of the look in his eyes…half of it was his true scorn, but the other half was also true hurt and wounded.

_Just like Frankenstein's creature._

And what did she say she'd do if she'd met such a being?

She thought her eyes drooping sadly as she leaned her face into his. She didn't really know why she was doing this. She was half guessing that she'd downed too much alcohol at the party from beforehand, and that she wasn't thinking clearly.

However such thoughts did not stop her from pressing her lips against his high cheek bone and murmuring softly

"Good Night Sherlock"

And with that she lay back down beside him, not noticing the small smile that had crept over his face as she shut her eyes and let sleep take her.

* * *

The dishevelled man with the white straight jacket, sitting on the metal chair in the middle of the dark interrogation room looked up at the man sitting across from him.

His brown eyes were flashing dangerously as his voice came out in quiet breaths of disbelief.

"What…What did you just say?"

The other man, who was in a suit that in no way impeded upon his movement leant back a gleam of malicious satisfaction clear in his deeper blue eyes as he opened his mouth to repeat his last words.

"I said Jim Moriarty…The longer you don't talk…the further _she_ slips away…towards _him_ … towards _Sherlock_ "

Moriarty's face split into a wide grin as he leant his head back and barked a loud laugh.

"Oh! What a very amusing _joke_ , Mr Holmes"

"I assure you, it is no mere _joke_."

Moriarty's laughter died at once and instead his eyes made to scrutinise the man in front of him.

However Mycroft Holmes was as impassive as ever.

Moriarty's face contorted.

"No…No-no-no-no-NO!"

Using the weight of his own body to compensate for the lack of hands, he launched himself towards Mycroft who merely sat there and blinked as several armoured security personnel leapt forwards and grabbed the angered man and forced him back into his seat as he snarled.

"Sherlock can't love another being! Not an ordinary one! And not my Toffee! Not her! He can't feel like that! It'll ruin him! Ruin his purpose!"

"Like it ruined you?" Mycroft shook his head as Moriarty struggled against them his face alive with wrath, livid with monstrous fury unparalleled.

"Oh _Jim_ ," he smiled coldly "We both know the true reason you only want Miss Monday."

"What do you know?!" Moriarty roared and Mycroft winced in his seat, though it was more from the volume than the tones.

"I know that she was the only loose end you'd ever left behind. You might have loved her at first, in that pathetic way most children become infatuated with their toys. But she was the one person you could never quite control and as such, the only witness you'd ever had of any of your crimes. And you could never quite comprehend, till this day, how she could have slipped through your fingers when clearly she was as normal as any other person. Oh I'm betting that burned you deep. What would all those people in your network think when they saw that their esteemed consulting criminal was bested by a mere woman of only slightly above average intelligence? So you tried to hunt her down, but no matter what you did she always was so unobtainable. And as you grew older that anger turned into obsession…and that obsession turned into something far worse than love… she became your idée fixe"

Mycroft's eyes narrowed as they looked upon Moriarty who, now once again seated back in his chair; was breathing heavily like a deranged beast.

"And yet for all your mental brilliance…she wears _his_ ring on her hand…"

"…I have…one question…" Moriarty's voice was soft but the snarling edge had not been lost just yet. "Does she…return his sentiment"

_Time to deliver the final blow_

The corners of Mycroft Holmes mouth twitched upwards.

"Return it? She initiates it."

Wild brown eyes met calm blue in a moment of absolute silence.

Then Moriarty's face split into a large cold leer.

"What would you like to know Mr Holmes?"

_Now…let there be war upon you both!_

* * *

_To Sherlock Holmes the ideal of paradise was absurd, unless it was to be the haven within his own mind._

_However, sinking into that comfortable mattress, under those warm sheets, with those gentle hands caressing his skin (even if it only be on his ears), the soft lips pressing tenderly against his cheek, he could not help but feel as if he'd fallen into bliss…_

_To think that this could ever happen for him, that he could feel as he did had prior to been laughable._

_And yet as he fell further, he saw in his mind palace a new doorway materialise out of thin air. It was standing right in-between the one labelled Redbeard and the other unlabelled but heavily chained steel door._

_And on a polished golden plaque was a name, though he found it rather small in print to read. He took a step closer and reached out with a trembling finger to trail over the first letter "R" -_

"Sherlock!" a voice hissed.

Sherlock blinked as he looked up from his newspaper only to see Rebecca quickly and as quietly as she could slink into the living room at the back of the house.

He was sitting with the twins who were both settling down to play videogames in front of the television. John was in the bathroom and Rebecca had just come back from the front door where barely five minutes ago someone had rung the doorbell.

"Well who is it?" he snorted taking in her slightly haphazard appearance as she stood in her messy apron on top of her red shirt and blue jeans.

"Sherlock" she whispered softly "It's Mrs Dawson's husband. He wants to speak to you".

"Dawson?"

Rebecca nodded making a shushing motion with one hand and pointing with the other at Teddy who was still thankfully focused on the video game.

But Sherlock wasn't focusing on the boy; his eyes were on the finger pressed to the woman's lips.

As she quickly made to snatch the newspaper from his hand he gingerly put a finger of his own on his cheek.

_Was that really part of the dream?_

But he had no longer time to ponder as Rebecca quickly dragged him to his feet and out of the room.

Sherlock was quick to straighten himself up as he approached the closed front door from which he could see the figure of a tall lanky man with coal black skin and dressed in very, very daggy exercise gear, who looked up quickly as soon as the door was opened.

"Mr Holmes?" he asked quietly and when Sherlock's eyes narrowed he quickly steamrolled into action "I'm sorry. I won't tell anyone. But I just recognised you from the London papers, especially that one with the hat. Please may I come in?"

"Of course…Mr Dawson"

Sherlock nodded taking note of Mr Dawson's appearance as he stepped into the house and led him to the kitchen.

_His clothes clear signs from the lack of ironing to his shirt, the track pants are probably already worn the day before but he'd kept them lying about so he's put them on as they were the first thing in reach. The state of the laces on his trainers, they're almost about to be undone and are uneven. If the state of his personal grooming is anything to go by, he's usually very meticulous about his appearance so it is only because of the fact that he was in a hurry that he's in this state and not just any sort of hurry. His hands, trembling, he's afraid. His eyes are red and he's perspiration has heightened considerably within the past hour, probably from running, heart rate is probably through the roof. No, not afraid he's desperate. He hasn't had much sleep for the past night._

"Here, this should sooth you some"

"T-thank you" Mr Dawson muttered as he took the cup of hot tea Rebecca had just handed to him with his trembling hands, before looking at Sherlock who kept a cold and calculating gaze upon him as he spoke.

"I'm so glad, Mycroft managed to get you to come. I wasn't sure if he was interested in helping or not. I know this isn't one of the sorts of issues you are usually interested in from what I've heard."

"On the contrary Mr Dawson, this is one of the more intriguing cases I've come across yet" Sherlock's eyebrows rose. "Though you have been very late in coming forth before now"

"I-I just wasn't sure that I could to be quite honest" Mr Dawson's eyes twitched towards the kitchen window "The people here…well they aren't like us ordinary people-"

"Yes we've noticed" Sherlock raised his brows but Mr Dawson didn't seem to hear him.

"-well more ordinary than they are at any rate, And then I saw both you and your wife at the party last night and how _normal_ you both were and I knew they hadn't gotten to you yet! I was so relieved…"

"They?"

Mr Dawson's face drained of colour at once.

"Shit I wasn't supposed to-" he clapped a hand over his mouth quickly looking about at the windows and the doorways.

"Mr Dawson" Sherlock's eyes narrowed into slits. "Who are they? And what did they do to your wife?"

But Mr Dawson shook his head quickly grabbing a napkin left over on the table and taking a pen out of his pocket. He quickly scribbled something down and passed it across the table.

As Sherlock read it Mr Dawson stood to his feet and turned to Rebecca who was frowning in confusion.

"You're a luckier man than most Mr Holmes…and no matter what happens…no matter what _they_ say…just…just never forget that …not for one moment…if you do then you'll be sucked in…it changes you…"

"Changes you into what?" Rebecca tilted her head to the side. "Is it a cult? Is that what this all is?"

Mr Dawson gulped his brown eyes locking with green blue hazel.

"Thank you for the tea" he muttered and quickly dashed out of the room and through the house.

"Wait Mr Dawson!" Rebecca called but already she could hear the wood of the front door slam.

_What on earth was that about?_

She ran into the study at the front of the house to peek through the windows that looked out onto the street. But before she could pull back the curtains over the glass, a large hand pulled her away.

She wheeled around to see Sherlock shake his head silently at her before quietly letting her go and walking back to the door which he bolted shut.

"Sherlock…" Rebecca gulped as he paused with his ear to the door. He put a hand up to silence her as he continued to listen intently.

However the only sounds he could hear at that moment were the distant television noises from the children's videogame and the flushing of the toilet as John finished washing up upstairs.

"YESS!"

Sherlock's face split into a wide grin of mirth as he turned back to Rebecca whose eyes widened in shock as he practically jumped in excitement hissing with glee.

"Oh yes! Yes! Yes! This is going absolutely perfectly!"

"What? Gah!" Rebecca squeaked as he suddenly wrapped his arms under her thighs and lifted her up to spin in the air.

"Sherlock!"

"This is fantastic. Better than I had hoped for! You know what this means?"

"No not really"

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"It means, it won't be long now before _he_ takes action. Which means we'll finally have solid facts soon"

"Wait! Hold up! Hold up Sherlock!" Rebecca cried out, her arms clutching for his head for dear life. "What do you mean he?"

"Oh come now Becca think! Think about everything. You know better than I did that when we saw that Dale Coba something was amiss."

"What Dale?"

"Yes Dale!" Sherlock growled his grip around her tightening "Who else in this town has the intelligence to pull all of this off?"

"All of what off? Sherlock I don't understand! You've gone several steps ahead of me! I have no idea of what you're talking about"

Sherlock's face fell like a stone.

"You can't?"

"No…" Rebecca shook her head.

"Oh…yeah…right…you're _normal_ " he bristled slightly, unable to meet her eye as he slowly set her back down to the floor. "I…I keep forgetting" he added in an undertone.

Rebecca stared up at him in astonishment as he quickly shut his eyes and cursed himself for his momentary lapse of sentiment.

Gently she took his cheeks in her hands "I know…I forget that too"

Despite his current self-disappointment, Sherlock leaned into her touch.

"For what you can't help it" he muttered.

"Neither can you" Rebecca quirked a brow. "So…are you going to talk me through or will I have to beat the shit out of you to get the answers?"

"Well someone's in a violent mood today" Sherlock frowned but then he suddenly nodded in comprehension "Ah…hangover?"

"I'll live" Rebecca shrugged as she pulled him to sit in one of the two chairs in front of the large desk. "Now…what is all this about Dale being the brains behind everything?"

Sherlock sighed and pulled out the napkin Dawson had only just scribbled on.

_3, 25, 2, 5, 18, 20, 18, 15, 14, 9, 3 - 9, 13, 16, 12, 1, 14, 20_

"What the…hell is this? A code."

Sherlock's grin returned full blast to his face.

**_BANG!_ **

"What was that?" Rebecca jumped to her feet and before Sherlock could stop her pulled apart the window curtains.

"Oh my god!"

Sherlock quickly stood up and bolted to her side to see outside.

There down the street a person was laying on the ground as someone's shadowy form ran off into the distance behind one of the hedges.

"Hey!" Sherlock called as he whipped around and saw Rebecca rush past the window on the pavement outside. She must have moved when he'd been looking at the body.

Sherlock dashed out the study door, almost colliding with John whose face was white as a sheet.

"Did you hear that?" he puffed as both he and his friend dashed out the front door.

"Obviously" Sherlock grunted as he caught sight of the familiar head of toffee waves drop down as Rebecca knelt red shirt dropping down to stoop beside…

"Holmes…" Mr Dawson croaked his voice raspy and dry as blood pooled all around him from the gunshot wound to his chest "Stepford…Stepford is the key…step…ford…is… key…"

There was a gurgling noise as the man gave one rasping exhale… his chest stilled…his muscles went slack and his eyes suddenly turned glassy and blank.

"Mr Dawson! Mr Dawson!" Rebecca reached out to grab his shoulders but Sherlock quickly pulled her back to let John forwards.

He quickly held onto the man's wrist and after a moment or two turned back to both his friends…and shook his head.

Sherlock stared down at the doctor with hardened cold eyes as he flicked out his phone.

"What are you doing?" John hissed looking about as people from the houses along the street began to poke their heads through their front doors.

"Calling Mycroft" Sherlock whispered.

"Mycroft?! We should be calling the police or an ambulance!"

"Becca can do that!"

"She can't!"

"What? Why not" Sherlock looked utterly perplexed.

John huffed and quickly gestured to the woman with them. She was staring in horror down at the corpse.

"Hmm…first time then huh?" Sherlock waved a hand in front of her face, to which she did not respond.

"Sherlock!"

"Oh…right…timing?"

"Argh you are unbelievable!" John growled standing up and quickly taking Rebecca by the arms to stand away from the fresh corpse which the consulting detective was quick to kneel down by.

Something was glinting from the depths of the man's tracksuit pockets…something metallic.

He looked around quickly. Most of the occupants of their street were still being very slow to come out of their homes.

Quickly as he dared he quickly removed the object and stood up to inspect it in his hands.

It looked strangely like a long silver ear plug, with a small grapple on the end and a long wire sticking out of the other.

_That's interesting…_

He narrowed his eyes as he turned it over in his fingers to see the other side on which a small symbol was faintly embossed over the surface metal. An old English Capital "S".

_That's very interesting…_

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo...
> 
> what do you think so far...I just couldn't leave poor Sherlock without a proper mysterious murder now could I? Answers will be explained in due course...that is...if you Read and Review...
> 
> MUAHAHAHAAHA~!
> 
> See you next time


	23. When Things Go Whoops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When love is not madness it is not love.”   
> ― Pedro Calderón de la Barca

"Anthony!"

A tall woman with dark curly hair and sharp verdigris eyes strode into a high class posh office in which a man with blonde hair and dark blue eyes was sitting with his back towards her in a high backed black leather chair behind an oak desk.

"You know my darling Gwen, most wives would greet their husbands with less fury when they are clearly working hard" he smirked twirling the chair around as she came close enough for her shadow to fall over him.

He did not seem at all perturbed by the scathing glower she fixed him with.

"And do you know _darling_ that most husbands would not send out hit men to target their best friends in other countries"

"Best friends who have stolen our children?"

"Rebecca did not steal anything from us! She is their legal guardian, not you."

"Oh you don't have to remind me _"_

Anthony's eyes flashed as he stood up from behind his desk.

He swiped at her with his hand and before she could make a move he had pulled her by the scruff of the white chiffon blouse she wore.

"Now you listen here _sweetheart_ " he snarled "I've had about enough of yours and your dear brothers games. I will get my children back by hell and high water make no mistake about that"

Gwendolyn Holmes' eyes narrowed as she spat in Anthony Toddhunter's face

"Go to hell… bastard"

* * *

Sherlock Holmes hated the police. Well not all police, just the bumbling baboons that made up the majority of the pathetic lower rank officers, one of which just had to be standing in front of him and the woman he had his arm around.

Sherlock chanced a glance down at Rebecca.

Her green blue hazel eyes were vacant in their sockets and her face was tense.

She'd been like that ever since Mr Dawson's death, which had been two hours ago. It was only now that the police had now come around to take a full witness statement from the Holmes, or as they were now called, the Jones' residence.

"Um…Mr Jones? Where were you on the morning of the 1st of July?"

Sherlock looked up at the young junior officer who fumbled and mumbled over a small notepad biting his lip nervously. He supposed he should pity the young man, who had to be in his mid-twenties, single, an avid comic book reader on the side and just starting out on his first case, but the undercover consulting detective did not do pity.

"It's as we said in our report to your bumbling superior. We were here in this house. I was in my study, my wife was in the kitchen, and John was in the living room with the children. Mr Dawson was just visiting us for a quick morning cup of tea as he passed by on his daily jog. We were acquaintances back in London and as such we were interested in getting to know one another better since we were going to be living in the same town. He came, we chatted, he left and then he was in front of the neighbour's house when he was shot. We heard the gun fire and came out to help. End of story"

Had it not been for her sullen mood Rebecca would have flinched at the tones. The poor young lad did though he quickly made to ask timidly.

"If you don't mind me asking, mr Jones sir…" he gulped looking up at Sherlock with a timid determination. "What were you and Mr Dawson talking about exactly?"

"Many things" Sherlock's eyes narrowed though inside his head he had to admit he was slightly impressed. The boy was obviously thinking more than the average cop. "Mainly about old London life"

"Oh I see" the young man nodded before quickly standing up. "well thank you for your time Mr Jones"

"Anything we can do to help" Sherlock nodded, perhaps the first genuine answer he had given the poor lad all the way through the interview.

He quickly showed him out before returning quickly back to the ground floor study. Rebecca was still sitting there as blank as when she had first woke up that morning.

Sherlock walked quietly over to one of the chairs behind the desk she was sitting at and knelt down in front of her.

"Becca" he murmured.

"Oh!" Rebecca squeaked her eyes widening in surprise.

"S- Sherlock I-I-I-" she stammered pinching the bridge of her nose as she sighed "I'm sorry I just…I don't know what came over me I-"

"You saw a man die from a gunshot and went into shock" Sherlock shrugged taking one of her hands in her lap into one of his own. "Perfectly ordinary reaction"

Rebecca looked down at his hand and then into his face which was intent as it began to scan over hers, trying to read her emotions.

"I'm fine Sherlock" she sighed heavily.

"I never asked how you were" Sherlock tilted his head to the side.

"You did…just not with words"

"In your dreams" Sherlock rolled his eyes. Rebecca snorted.

"True"

But then suddenly she looked sad once more.

Sherlock's brow furrowed. He knew it was her shock that was making her emotions go all topsy turvy on him now but still it was pretty unnerving to see the transitions.

However nothing could have surprised him more than when he felt Rebecca's smaller hands grab him by the collar and pull him into her.

"Bec-mph!" he grunted as her lips collided with his own. He struggled with her hands and his slipping mind as her tongue slid into his mouth and began to coax his towards hers.

"Becca" Sherlock gasped as he tried to wrench himself away from her frantic mouth. "Becca what are you-"

"Distract me" Rebecca whispered desperately against his jaw before leaning in for another go. "Please just for one time. I need a distraction from all this mayhem"

"No Becca...You're upset...stressed...under a lot of pressure working undercover" Sherlock panted breathlessly his hands scrambling for purchase on her body despite himself. He could feel her skin hot under his fingers as they wandered beneath the red shirt she wore. "Couldn't you ask a stranger?"

"I don't want a stranger" she breathed as she pressed her body against his. "I want you"

Sherlock could not believe his ears. A woman wanted him? Actually wanted him…even if it was merely to distract herself from her own emotional instabilities a woman, no, _Rebecca_ actually _wanted_ him?

He remembered the night of the housewarming party, of his debacle in the bath, how he'd visualised the scene, the heat, the sweat. So vivid so _intense_. He didn't think he'd ever feel as overcome with desire as he had been then but he was certainly now.

"Becca" Sherlock hissed as her lips pressed into the skin just under his chin. Instinctively he pulled her into him so that he could kiss her deeply once more. As she wrapped her arms around his neck they both fell backwards onto the hard wooden floor.

Sherlock barely noticed the small bump on the back of his head as he rolled over onto all fours on top of Rebecca who now proceeded to also wrap her ankles around his hips.

Rebecca kissed him through a daze. She could barely remember the last time she'd been so high strung, so frantic with want. But now in her desperation she was ravenous. It felt like years (even though it had actually been only three months) since she'd had felt the familiar touch of skin on skin and of body heat, of tender caresses, of passion…

She mewled with delight when Sherlock's hand found her bare stomach under her top and began to slide upwards, undoing the small buttons one by one along the way.

When her shirt opened up he paused in his kiss and looked down on her. His pupils were dilated so much that there was barely any colour left in his irises save for a sliver of light blue.

"Becca" he breathed her name once more, the sound and feel of the syllables escaping his lips as addictive as tobacco fumes to him as he looked down upon her from his position.

She looked positively gorgeous from this perspective. Her skin glowing, her chest heaving up and down with every pant for breath making her bosom look even more impressive even in her plain ordinary white bra. Her cheeks were flushed a glorious shade of pink as she looked up at him through half lidded green hazel eyes.

"Sherlock" she breathed reaching up to gently stroke his now messy curls from his face.

Her fingers were hot to the touch and made his own skin scorch like wildfire and he knew he was a goner.

He could hear faintly Mycroft's voice in the back of his mind yelling out to him.

_Sherlock! Sherlock no! Don't you'll both never be able to come back from -_

"Oh shut up Mycroft" he whispered to himself before diving down into oblivion.

* * *

"Mr Holmes! Sir!"

Mycroft Holmes looked up from his desk at the distressed call of one of his black suited agents ran into the room with a laptop in his hands.

"What is it this time Drew?" the eldest Holmes brother sighed as sufferingly as one tasked to carry the weight of the globe upon his back, or at least the weight of Britain.

"You'll….you'll want to see this for yourself sir…" The man, Drew gulped as he set the laptop in his hands down on the desk before his boss and opened it up. At once the screen lit up to show black and white security footage of a study on which two people were laying on the floor-

No not lying down…

Drew began to scramble away from the desk just as Mycroft Holmes roared at the top of his lungs.

"SHERLOCK!"

* * *

There was a loud masculine grunt and a soft feminine moan as the man with the pale skin and dark curls dropped on top of the woman with the toffee blonde haired woman's body with a soft thump his cheek plastered against the sweaty skin along her collarbone.

"Th-that was…" Rebecca panted as she lay her head back into the dark wooden floorboards beneath her body.

"…interesting…" Sherlock puffed heavily.

"Interesting?" Rebecca snorted quirked an eyebrow down at the naked man that lay on top of her, his cheek plastered against her bare chest.

"Yes" Sherlock craned his head up to look into her flushed face. "Most…illuminating experience…of my life…and I've done…some pretty…crazy…things"

He pressed his face into the spot over her heart as he tried to catch his breath. His entire body felt like extremely wobbly jelly and he felt so…euphoric…

"Wow…" he sighed shutting his eyes as his hand grasped at Rebecca's which he had been holding onto tightly.

"I had always heard that the Endorphin release following intercourse was intense" and as he muttered this Sherlock found himself grinning widely "but I never realised by how much. And how much Oxytocin we both must be releasing into our systems-"

He stopped when he heard a faint giggle from above him.

"What?"

"Oh Sherlock …" Rebecca murmured twirling a lock of his hair around her finger playfully "You have by far got to be the most surprising man I've ever known"

"Surprising?" Sherlock's brow furrowed as he looked up to rest his chin on her clavicle.

"Yeah…" Rebecca smiled down at him, her free hand making to play softly with his dark curls. "Every time I think I know you…you pull another white rabbit out of a hat and _amaze_ me"

"Really?" the corners of Sherlock's lips quirked upwards and his light eyes glinted brightly.

"Really" Rebecca nodded her fingers reaching out to stroke his jaw. "Why what do people usually say to you?"

"That I'm a psychopath that needs to sod off"

"Idiots the whole lot of them! You are a genius, high functioning sociopath with an even bigger ego to match"

"Hmm…a big ego which you thoroughly enjoyed"

"Oh wow, so modest Mr Holmes" Rebecca rolled her eyes as she stroked his chin

"I try Miss Monday, I try" Sherlock chuckled softly at the silent invitation and with great effort crawled over her just enough so that his face hovered over hers.

"Oh I must be insane" Rebecca whispered against Sherlock's lips and he smirked.

"Well that makes two of us"

He swooped down upon her once more, taking her bruised lips in his just as the door to the study swung open with a bang.

"Sherlock! Sherlock come quick! Mycroft's on the phone he wants to…to…"

Sherlock and Rebecca both stilled mid kiss and turned their heads.

There much to their horror stood a short blonde haired man, one of his arms in a sling whilst the other held the wireless landline, his blue eyes bulging out of their sockets and his mouth agape with shock as he stared at his two flatmates as they lay naked and entangled in each other's bodies on the bare floor of the study.

Sherlock gulped.

"Oh… hello John…what can we do for y-"

"JUST SHUT UP AND PUT SOME BLOODY CLOTHES ON YOU GIT!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey i'm back! and lets just say that i am rofl-ing around even as i type this sentence.
> 
> poor John, he really got the short end of the stick this time XD. as did Mycroft. Oh boy he's not going to be happy with his little brother now is he? (hope Sherly and Becca don't get into too much trouble)
> 
> hope you guys enjoyed
> 
> keep R&Ring for more juicy stuff ;)


	24. Pay the Piper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There's no bitch on earth like a mother frightened for her kids.”   
> ― Stephen King

"Becca…I know its not any of my real business but…as a doctor and as your friend I have to ask-"

"I'm on the pill if that's what you're wondering"

"Oh…Good" John Watson ran a hand down his face again as he tried and failed to look across at Rebecca at the kitchen table. She was sitting dressed only in Sherlock's large white shirt (she had yet to find her red one that he had tossed aside during their rather sudden _roll in the hay_ ), as she timidly took a sip of tea.

"I-I…" she gulped as she looked up at her friend who quickly turned to look out the window blushing to the roots of his short hair. "I'm sorry you had to…y'know…"

"It's alright" John waved her off quickly "I guess I over reacted…seeing you two naked on the floor it was…well…uh…"

"shocking? Funny I would've thought after all those times I've accidently flashed my boobs at you would have done the trick"

"Yeah well I've seen female anatomy plenty of times" John admitted, a little smugly but then he sighed heavily "Sherlock's bare backside on the other hand…"

"Scarred you for life?"

"…you could say that"

"Pity it's actually a really nice behind" Rebecca giggled as John's ears turned pink as he buried his face in his hands.

"UGH! I'm going to pretend I never heard that!" he groaned and her giggles became if possible even louder, just as the consulting detective himself stormed into the kitchen angrily snapping into the receiver of the wireless landline.

"Mycroft don't you dare-MYCROFT!"

But there was only a beeping sound as the elder Holmes disconnected from the other end abruptly.

"Sherlock what is it?" Rebecca quickly stood up as Sherlock swore under his breath. He too was only in his best dressing gown though he was at least wearing his pants underneath, much to John's relief.

Sherlock turned to her scowling darkly.

"My dear brother it seems has been keeping a much closer eye than I originally thought"

"Oh god…don't tell me he…me and you…" Rebecca shut her eyes as her cheeks went even redder than John's, who was now shaking his head that was still in his hands.

"Well that's just perfect. Let's just hope he doesn't tell the whole of London"

"Actually John we're quite lucky" Sherlock sighed heavily pinching the bridge of his nose "If anything Mycroft will never let this footage ever see the light of day. However if Moriarty finds out about this it won't bode well for anyone"

"Isn't Jimmy-Moriarty" Rebecca quickly corrected herself as Sherlock's eyes flashed in her direction. "Isn't he locked up?"

"For now yes" Sherlock muttered exchanging a look with John. "But considering the fact that this case we were given is one of his games. And the fact that Mr Dawson was just murdered up on our street four hours ago, I think it's fair to say that Moriarty has many connections that span not only in Europe but all over the globe"

"Connections like sharp shooting snipers?" John suggested lightly though his eyes had gone hard and thoughtful just as Rebecca's face paled with dread and she clutched her left shoulder.

"Becca" Sherlock stepped towards her his voice low and soothing "The curtains were drawn; he couldn't have seen us-"

"But…what if he did?" She breathed looking up at him biting her lip "And…what if he saw us somewhere else too…"

"…The same shooter from Dartmoor" Sherlock's eyes narrowed on the shoulder Rebecca was rubbing. "It would make sense…he would know our faces, or at least know that we are not who we claim we are to be"

"And he would know about the kids" John added remembering with a shudder how terrified Tabatha had been holding onto Sherlock for dear life back in Dewers Hollow.

There was a silence as they all digested this information, at least until Rebecca suddenly gasped.

"John…where are Teddy and Tabby?"

"err…up in their room I think" John looked upstairs before calling out loudly "Hey Ted, Tabby you can come down now"

But there was only silence from the floor above.

"Odd" Sherlock muttered following his friends' gaze "You'd think with the amount of ruckus you made they'd be coming to…investigate…" but even as the last word left his mouth Rebecca was scrambling out of the room and up the stairs.

Both men called after the woman as she ran helter skelter onto the second floor landing crying out loudly.

"Teddy! Tabby! You come out here right now" but even as she wrenched open the door to the twins rooms she felt her heart sink right through.

"Becca!" Sherlock hissed as he and John came into the threshold of the bedroom and looked around.

Nearly everything in here was spick and span. The beds made, the desks neat, even the floor was clear of all toys or books or games…all save one piece of paper that lay folded on one of the beds. The one with the blue sheets over it.

There was a silence as Rebecca timidly stepped over to pick it up her fingers trembling so badly the paper nearly fell from her grip.

Eventually Sherlock took it from her and opened it up, quickly catching what appeared to be a small plastic credit card in his fingers.

"Sherlock" John gulped as he and Rebecca watched the colour drain from the detective's face as he scanned the page with his eyes.

When he was finished he looked up and met Rebecca's wide eyes with his own grim expression.

She shut her eyes as a shuddering breath escaped her when Sherlock turned the page over for her and John to see.

There printed in black and white ink a man in a striped medieval costume holding a musical pipe to his mouth as a pair of children made to walk behind him…a pair of children that looked eerily like the two young Holmes twins.

"And that's not all" Sherlock's gaze hardened as he showed his companions the plastic card in his other hand. "They left their calling card too"

"Jesus" John shook his head out as he caught sight of the white lettering printed on the shiny new black surface of the card.

_Sherlock Holmes_

_66 Hex Street,_

_Proud member of the Sunny Hills Men's Association_

"I don't know about you two gents" Rebecca eyes flashed as she eyed the last four words on the card. "But I think we owe Dale Coba and his buddies a visit"

* * *

"Teddy! Ted wake up"

Theodore Holmes cracked open an eye as he felt his twin sister shake at his shoulder.

"Tabby…what…where are we?" He blinked as he sat up looking about himself.

"Dunno" Tabby bit her lip as she too examined their surroundings.

They both seemed to be sitting in a small waiting room, with dark brown leather chairs, bookshelves lining the walls and a coffee table with toys and magazines in the middle. However there were no windows or doors they could see.

"It's ok Tabs" Teddy grabbed onto his sister's hand as he saw it begin to tremble. "it doesn't look dangerous"

"But it might be" Tabby sniffled "don't you remember the guy…the one that had the gun…"

"…oh…yeah…him" Teddy blinked as a very blurred memory flashed over his minds eye of a tall dark figure of a man with a mask over his face hitting him with something he couldn't quite remember…. It was then that he noticed that his head was throbbing badly in pain.

"You should lie down" Tabatha gulped pushing her brother to lie back on the couch they were sitting at. "Rest but not sleep…just like Uncle John told us"

"Do you think they know?" Teddy grunted leaning into his sister's side as his head throbbed again.

"I hope so" Tabby mumbled leaning back onto her brother and holding on tight to him.

_Please Aunty Becca, Uncle Sherlock, Uncle John…Please find us soon…_

* * *

"Right we're here, let's go" Rebecca snarled as she made to open the car door as it parked right in front of the large green hill on which the indomitable impending structure of the Sunny Hill's Men's Association stood proud and tall above all the other houses.

However before she could make to get a foot out of the car Sherlock quickly grabbed her arm tight.

"Don't be stupid. Barging in there in that state is going to do no good"

"No good be damned!" Rebecca hissed "They have my children in there Sherlock and if you expect me to sit by and watch them get killed or worse-"

"They won't be" Sherlock gripped her arm tighter "Becca I swear to you I will not allow anything to happen to them. You have my word alright?"

Rebecca stared at him and as she looked into his eyes she saw in the same fear and anger that she felt, only he had managed to keep his under extremely refined control.

She nodded her lips trembling but otherwise she stiffened in an attempt to remain calm.

John remained silent at the exchange in the front seats but it did not stop him from seething in his seat.

Despite working with Sherlock after all this time, he could not believe there were people sick enough to target children, no matter how brilliant or unusual children they were, just to get at their parents…or aunts and uncles in this case. The thought of Tabatha and Teddy being held hostage, was tantamount to dangling a red flag in front of a matador bull for the residents of 221B Baker Street.

He walked alongside Sherlock his face set determinedly as his free arm not in the sling fingered his service revolver in his pocket. If they were walking into the lion's den they might as well be prepared.

The ex-army doctor's hand twitched as the great oak front doors to the large estate swung inwards to admit them though no one to open them was in sight.

"Trap" he muttered.

"Obviously" Sherlock snorted derisively as Rebecca gripped his hand even tighter.

_Trap…TRAP?!_

She jumped as they stepped into a darkened hallway and the front doors banged shut behind them, plunging them into semi darkness.

Sherlock's eyes snapped up to look ahead as three people came striding down from up ahead in the corridor, carrying torches and wearing maroon blazers over their clothes with a familiar Old English capital "S" embroidered on the left side of the chest.

One of them he recognised as the bumbling figure of Arthur Sunderson who gulped sheepishly as his face became visible to the three newcomers. He turned to John and bit his lip.

"Umm…Dr Watson…if you would please come with me…"

"Why should I do that?" John's eyes were narrowed into dangerous slits that even Sherlock felt uncomfortable, though he was much better at hiding it than the stupid round fool that was barely able to string two words together.

"Because um…because the boy might need your help…" he shrank back as Rebecca's face turned from fear to seething within a split second.

"Where are they?" she spat lunging forwards but Sherlock held her back firmly. "WHERE ARE THEY?!"

"I have orders to only take Dr Watson ma'am" Arthur gulped "I'm sorry…but you and Mr Jones…Mr _Holmes_ I mean, will have to go with Carter and Crane. Dale wants to meet you as soon as possible."

"I'm sure he does" Sherlock clipped icily before nodding at John who nodded back solidly before glowering at Arthur.

"Lead the way"

Sherlock kept a tight grip on Rebecca as John made to follow Arthur closely down the length of the hall and around a corner to the right.

When the doctor was out of sight, Rebecca rounded on him.

"Sherlock how could you-"

"If Theodore really has been hurt" Sherlock steamrolled over her calmly "then it would be best to let John be able to treat him in a _calm_ environment don't you think?"

He quickly turned to face the other men that had arrived with Arthur, Carter and Cheng who were still standing in the same spot they'd arrived in.

The one closest to him and Rebecca was of Asian descent average in height and build, and wore glasses. His face however was rather sickly thin which when combined with his greasy slicked back hair and slit like eyes gave the impression of a rather nasty sneering serpent.

"Well come on then Mr Holmes" Cheng leered pushing up a pair of glasses on his weedy, almost sickly thin face "Dale doesn't like being kept waiting."

But Sherlock wasn't listening he was too busy deducing the man next to Cheng

He was just as tall as Sherlock built like a great hulking gorilla on steroids, his muscles so huge that the arms and chest of his blazer were straining against the fabric of his clothes.

_Carter…Ex pro-wrestler… Abusive…prone to violence…probably because of all the performance enhancing drugs-_

But his deductions were cut short when Cheng rolled his eyes and motioned to Carter who immediately stepped forwards to grab hold of Rebecca's wrist so hard that she squeaked.

**_CRACK!_ **

Sherlock did not know when he moved. All that he knew was that one moment he was standing still and the next moment his fist had suddenly struck out like a hammer straight into the huge hulking Carter's nose.

There was the sickening crunch as bone hit bone and a grunt as blood spurted from a broken nose as Carter keeled backwards and thudded heavily onto the floor.

"HELP-" Cheng cried out in panic but before he could even begin to run he felt a hand grab his wrist and twist him into a lock just as something metallic pressed against the back of his head.

Sherlock wheeled around from where he stood over the unconscious Carter and saw to his amazement (and slight terror) Rebecca snarl down at Cheng, holding a small black handgun to the back of his head.

"Listen here you piece of shit either you take us to your boss quietly or I blow your brains out."

"I would choose quickly Mr Cheng" Sherlock straightened up his gaze cold with derisive pleasure as the terrified man gulped down a scream. "Miss Monday is not a patient woman. Especially when her children are involved"

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OHoho! crap the men of Sunny Hills better watch out. Nobody messes with mama bear Becca.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed and Keep R&Ring for more.


	25. Little Women, Big Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Love Jo all your days, if you choose, but don't let it spoil you, for it's wicked to throw away so many good gifts because you can't have the one you want."
> 
> ― Louisa May Alcott, Little Women

Dale Coba had met many intriguing men in the course of his long stay at Sunny Hills. Some were smart and geeky, others average and boring, some thuggish and stupid and even some delightfully more criminal than the inmates at Alcatraz.

But he had yet to find a man as intriguing or as enigmatic as Sherlock Holmes.

And so it was with great fascination that he watched the consulting detective stride calmly into the room behind Cheng who was still being held at gunpoint by a familiar woman with toffee blonde waves.

"Welcome Mr Holmes." He called out stepping forwards into the light of the great circular room.

"Dale Coba" Sherlock replied softly glancing at Rebecca to his right. She nodded and let go of Cheng, chucking him aside before lowering the gun to her side.

"Tut-tut Miss Monday is that any way to treat your hosts" Dale tutted as he stepped down from the grand double staircase before them.

_Never underestimate the anger of a terrified mother_

Sherlock heard John's voice from somewhere inside his mind palace

He had to smirk at that, though admittedly he was rather glad to not be on the receiving end of her glare at the moment. It could have flattened a charging rhinoceros.

"and I suppose that kidnapping children to just leave your calling card is the way to treat a guest?" Sherlock held up the Men's Association Membership card in his hand.

Dale chuckled as he finally stepped down onto level ground with them.

"Oh that…that was just to make sure you guys actually came. Sherlock you've been avoiding coming for days now and Rebecca…well…" his eyes roved shrewdly over the younger woman who's grip on the gun stiffened "She's been due in for her Sunny Hills Makeover for quite some time"

"Sunny Hills?" Sherlock quirked an eyebrow "Or should it be Stepford?"

Several of the men around them all stiffened and Rebecca quickly noticed that they were all wearing the same maroon blazer with the old fashioned S on the crest over their chests.

"Stepford?" she looked at who had his narrowed eyes on the consulting detective who opened his mouth to speak.

"Yes. Operation Stepford. 1999. A top secret joint British and American operation involving the experimental use of Soldiers who had been fitted with highly advanced Cybernetic implants in order to change and or modify their personalities. However the operation was aborted when one of the soldiers died after a technical malfunction with his implant. To avoid any incarceration for their failure the two scientists working on the project ran away and hid in Connecticut, where they both have been endeavouring to turn this  _charming_ town into their own personal playground. Isn't that right Mr Dale Coba…or should I say Dr Dale Wellington?"

Dale's face was as pale as ice, and just as frigidly angry. However he held it in in gentlemanly fashion and smiled at Sherlock in a manner a father would smile at his son.

"Oh Mr Holmes my wife and I aren't doing this for our own personal amusement. We just want folks here to be happy. To have a comfortable way of life. To have a paradise"

"Paradise?" Rebecca's eyes were bulging out of her sockets. "Why because you have women who behave like slaves, women who are obsessed cleaning their kitchens or fixing their makeup, women who never challenge you in any way, women who only exist to wait on you hand and foot? That's your idea of paradise?"

"Well yeah"

"uhuh"

"Yep"

"That's about right"

Rebecca grimaced with disgust as the men that surrounded her and Sherlock all nodded their heads and grinned like idiots.

Dale stepped forwards with a placating air about him as he spoke softly.

"Rebecca Monday I have seen your real files and I know that you yourself are a brilliant woman in your own right. But I can see your in no mood to think reasonably at the moment and that's alright. You're furious because of your kids missing but also because of the fact that we, us men, thought of this idea first whilst you women were so obsessed with becoming as independent as us. That being said, I would have thought you of all people Mr Holmes"

Dale turned back to Sherlock.

"Surely you of all people could appreciate the concept behind all this. Just picture this. Imagine being able to get rid of all those irritating habits from the person you love and be able to be with them at their very best every single day."

"I agree the idea is quite appealing" Sherlock nodded slowly.

"what?" Rebecca wheeled around her eyes wide. "But Sherlock-"

"Rebecca I know what you are thinking. But this is a unique circumstance…a one in a lifetime chance of an experiment"

Rebecca panicked as she could almost see every gear turning in the detective's head and she quickly rushed to stand in front of him.

"Yeah…it would be" she glared up at him fiercly "But I have to wonder. Could a machine…could any of these Stepford wives…could they say  _I love you_?"

"Of course. In over sixty languages" Dale shrugged from the sidelines watching the pair closely as Rebecca's eyes suddenly turned over bright.

"But would they truly  _mean_  it?"

For a moment there was silence as Sherlock stared down at Rebecca. His expression was difficult to read and as Rebecca looked up at him she saw for the first time so much unspoken emotion swirling in the depths of those Verdigris irises.

Without even pausing to think she leant up and pressed her mouth against his. It wasn't like the first few times they'd kissed, nor was it like that quick hot roll in the hay from earlier that day. This time their mouths were slow and soft and Sherlock could not help but shut his eyes as he felt her tender hand lightly grip the collar of his shirt as she pulled him down to her.

But just when he felt her try and deepen the kiss further his hands wrapped around hers and he pulled away and took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry Becca"

* * *

"Uncle John!"

John Watson barely had time to observe the large library/study around him before he was bowled over by a very distraught Tabatha.

"Whoa there Tabby it's ok" he quickly hugged the girl before drawing away.

He felt his heartstrings tug painfully at the sight of her tear stained pale face.

"Are you alright? Nothing's broken or bleeding?" John patted down the girl before bringing a handkerchief up to wipe at her face.

Tabatha shook her head her lips trembling as she mumbled.

"No but Ted's head got hit pretty hard. He's up but it hurts loads"

"Where is he?" John asked gently and Tabatha pointed to the couch where a small blonde haired boy was sitting watching the television blankly.

Theodore Holmes looked up as John approached and grinned.

"Hey Uncle John"

"Hey there yourself" John grunted as he sat down beside the boy. "what are you watching?"

"Ah just some weird quiz show" Theodore shrugged as he made to turn the volume down.

"How's your head?" John pointed to the back of the blonde curls that the boy was currently rubbing

"Still sore but less now that I had the painkiller"

John quickly shot a wary gaze back at Arthur Sunderson who shifted nervously on his feet.

"I'm no doctor but I've got three boys of my own" he mumbled "They get pretty rowdy so I'm used to injuries in my household."

"And yet you allow your boss to kidnap two other people's kids?"

John snapped angrily.

"You don't understand" Arthur sighed sadly. "Dale…he's got…contacts...connections…"

"Connections?" John frowned. "What he bribes the police or something?"

Arthur shook his head, his eyes nervously darting about as he quickly strode over to John and dragged him over

"No John. These aren't just people in high places. I'm talking about guys and gals whose entire lives are lived on the black market. The masters of the masters. Many of them are on the international most wanted list. Drug smugglers, human traffickers, arms dealers, terrorists, hit men."

"Like that guy that shot Dawson" John breathed and Arthur nodded his usually friendly chubby face turning hard as stone.

"Moran. Sebastian Moran."

John's eyes went wide as he looked onto the face of the man beside him in shock. But before he could even open his mouth the door to the study opened and they both turned.

John felt his heart sink like a stone.

"Uncle Sherlock!"

There standing in the doorway was Sherlock. His face was set in its usual emotionless slate though the corners of his mouth quirked upwards when he heard both the twin's cries of excitement.

"Well judging by your enthusiasm I guess you're both fine" Sherlock grunted as both the ten year olds ran into him and almost bowled him over.

"Of course we are Uncle Sherlock" Tabatha pouted up at him angrily. "Geeze it's not like we're two years old! We can look after ourselves y'know"

Theodore mumbled something under his breath that could have been an agreement to his sister but it was too soft for anyone to hear.

"I'm sure both of you can" Sherlock smirked fondly down at the pair as he clumsily patted both their heads.

The consulting detective was always slightly awkward when it came to being physically affectionate towards the twins, but for once John did not find it amusing.

He was looking at the clothes his friend was wearing. Sherlock had traded in his usual black suit jacket…for a maroon blazer just like one Arthur wore, it even had the same golden "S" embroidered on the chest,

"Sherlock?" John gulped and Sherlock looked up at him.

For a fleeting instance the doctor thought he saw a flicker of remorse flash over those Virdigris pupils before it was quickly masked by a cough.

"John there's something you should know…" but even as he trailed off someone else stepped into the room to stand beside him.

It was a woman standing in a classy knee length form fitting dark green dress to match her sparkling green-blue hazel eyes. Her toffee blonde hair was glossy and soft and was tied up elegantly in a bun behind her head and her make up was natural but elegantly applied.

Her pearly white teeth almost shone with an unnatural radiance as she beamed at the room at large.

"R-Rebecca?" John gulped in horror.

"Hello John" Rebecca turned her attention to her friend batting her long thick lashes at him sweetly over her strangely emotionless and glassy eyes.

"Isn't it a lovely evening?"

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun-Dun-DUNNN!  
> Shock! Horror! Gasp!
> 
> Sherlock what have you done? You have converted to the Dark Side?!
> 
> What will poor John do?
> 
> :0
> 
> keep R&Ring to find out more


	26. One for the Master, One for the Dame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We love the things we love for what they are.”   
> ― Robert Frost

John could never remember a time he'd ever felt so furious.

He'd been in wars, seen some of his comrades die on the battle field. He'd solved crimes involving the capture and arrest of some of the vilest vermin ever to walk the face of the earth for crimes that were almost too heinous to think of.

But none of those could compare to the pure anger or disappointment he now felt towards that one man he was sure could never let him down.

"John!" a familiar deep voice spoke from a doorway.

John didn't even look up. If he had he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from lunging to his feet and punching the lights out of the owner of the words spoken aloud.

"John…" Sherlock Holmes' voice was now an unsure gulp as he looked upon his silent friend who merely proceeded to lick a finger before pointedly turning over a page of his newspaper.

The consulting detective's eyes fell for a brief moment before he murmured softly to the quiet.

"I'll be in the basement if you want to find me"

It was only when the door from the family room down into the basement clicked shut did John look up from his task.

The basement had recently become Sherlock's little personal laboratory. John had never been down there before or after its occupant had taken ownership of the space though he knew well enough that the subjects tested in it were not of the usual morbid array of severed body parts and chemicals. No there was only one possible subject that could be sitting down there right now, and she was blissfully unaware of anything.

His jaw tensed uncomfortably as his thoughts mulled over the soft traces of hurt in his flatmate's voice.

_No…no John don't feel sorry for him_

He shook his head slightly.

_It was he who decided to take what was probably one of the best things in his life and ruin it completely. He has no one to blame but himself. And if he'd had a shred of true decency he'd remove that bloody device from Becca and beg for forgiveness._

He shut his eyes and sighed heavily. He really felt terrible for Rebecca, and not just because of what those men had done to her. In the past few months he'd come to know her they'd both gotten close…rather like the brother and sister they so often pretended to be when under disguise.

"Oh Beck…" the doctor pinched the bridge of his nose "I'm so sorry this happened to you"

He could only imagine how Tabatha and Theodore were feeling now.

* * *

"Hey!"

Young Theodore Holmes looked up quickly.

He was standing with his back pressed against the wall and his I-pod headphones stuffed into his ears.

He'd been keeping to this corner since the start of the party. He never liked crowds. Not like his sister, ever the social butterfly she was. No Theodore liked peace and quiet and good music, not this trashy samba junk the adults around him were listening to.

And so it was with baneful disdain that he looked up into the sweet lightly freckled face of a girl with frizzy ginger hair and light brown eyes that were glinting happily.

"Oh…hey Lizzie" he coughed quickly looking her up and down and assessing her for a moment, more out of habit than anything else "You look nice."

"Thanks" Lizzie McCallum smiled shyly, blushing as she twisted her hands in front of her sunflower yellow dress. "You look nice too"

At this Theodore looked down on himself. He was just wearing a plain white dress shirt with a dark blue vest over the top and black slats and shoes. Nothing too flashy in comparison to the white or black penguin suits he'd seen most of the other boys wearing.

He was just thankful John had been in charge of getting himself and Tabatha ready for the evening. And even as he looked around the crowded ballroom of the Men's Association building he caught a glimpse of the dark red hem of his twins dress as she happily danced with a couple of her girlfriends amongst the grown up men and their brainwashed wives.

He quickly glanced back at Lizzie who was now biting her lip and also looking at the adults, trying her best not to look back at him.

He suddenly found his palms sweaty.

Oh god she wasn't expecting him to dance was she? If she was Tabatha would never stop teasing him till Christmas.

But even as he tried to look about for an escape route he caught sight of a familiar dark figure flanked by three other children begin to make their way towards his spot.

"Hey Liz let's dance"

And before the girl by his side could even give her answer young Theodore Holmes, dragged her out into the dance floor.

He didn't care whether or not he'd look like a fool, he'd rather suffer his sisters teasing for the rest of his life than be on the other end of another fist.

But then just as he began to take the first step of the dance the music suddenly stopped.

Theodore strained his ears as small murmurings made their way into his ears.

One of them in particular caught his attention.

"shh! Dale's about to speak"

It was with a venomous glare that the youngest male Holmes turned to face the front of the ballroom at which an old middle aged man stood alongside his wife who was smiling warmly and with great affection at him as everyone applauded him.

"Good Evening ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. Tonight is truly the highlight of our year for in this hour of sadness; a new light shines upon us as we gather here to honour our newest citizens of Sunny Hill. Mr and Mrs Jones."

And with a grand sweep of his hand, Dale motioned to the back doors of the ballroom which opened suddenly to reveal a man and woman walking arm in arm into the room.

"Hey do you think-" Lizzie hissed excitedly only to be cut off by a swift sharp look from her partner who quickly turned his gaze back to the Ballroom doors through which a couple had just walked through.

He felt his stomach churn uncomfortably as he caught sight of his aunt and uncle clearly for the first time as they passed. Sherlock once again was in a sharp tuxedo whilst Rebecca was wearing a long pale crème dress that reached her ankles.

Theodore watched with glaring eyes as Rebecca and said consulting detective made to enter a waltz position as the band started up on the stage.

They moved seamlessly together around the floor, gaining many admiring and jealous looks from the adults they passed, who all eventually made their way to join them in the dancing.

Sherlock looked down upon his prize in his arms with a cold triumphant smirk as she made to ask sweetly.

"Is everything perfect?"

"Oh yes" he grinned "Everything is going very perfectly indeed"

He paused as he caught sight of something in the corner of his eye and quickly turned to see Dale standing before him smiling pleasantly.

"May I cut in?"

"Of course" Sherlock smiled politely back before backing away quietly towards the side of the room.

* * *

Half an hour later John was doing everything in his power to stop himself from losing his temper then and there.

_Sherlock you are without a doubt the most horrible-most sadistic-most heartless-_

"John" a voice hissed in his ear and the doctor jumped around only to come face to face with the object of his scorn.

"Oh bored already are you?" he spat before turning back to sip at his drink.

"We need to talk" Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

"Us? Talk?" John hissed as he rounded on him "No Sherlock! You honestly think after all this mess I'm going to-"

"Oh shut up and don't be so dramatic" Sherlock rolled his eyes and grabbed the doctor's arm forcefully.

"Sherlock get off!" John hissed but the consulting detective paid him no attention as he made to drag him away down a side hall of the large buildings.

John groaned in aggravation as the detective shoved him against the wall before turning to fiddle with a lock on a door.

"Sherlock what the hell are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Sherlock muttered darkly as he felt around for the lock to click open "I'm going to stop this madness once and for all"

Dale smirked as he led Rebecca by the arm towards the garden of the Association building.

"So my dear how are you feeling?"

"Oh I'm feeling wonderful Mr Coba" Rebecca smiled up at him her face as sweet as sugar. "Everyone here is so kind and lovely…and then of course there's you"

"Me?" Dale gave a politely puzzled expression though his eyes twinkled with smug pride as Rebecca made to bat her eyelashes up at him.

"Oh yes…you're so nice and helpful. And not just to me but to everyone. Why without you there wouldn't be any Sunny Hills to run"

"Well that's very sweet of you" Dale smirked "And why do you think that?"

Rebecca giggled.

"Because you are such a-"

"HOW DARE YOU!" A woman's voice screeched at the top of her lungs.

Dale quickly turned his head and saw to his absolute horror, a woman with dark red hair towering over a dorky looking man who was shrinking away from her in alarm as she all but spat fire at him.

There was pure seething rage in her eyes as she snarled down at her husband.

"How could you do this to me?"

"honey please-" the man trembled but he cringed away as she screeched once more.

"No don't you honey me asshole-"

But then suddenly the last words of hers were drowned out by another woman's voice yelling out in outrage.

"Oh my- What the hell am I wearing?"

"You bastard!" Another woman suddenly yelled.

"What the?" Dale's eyes widened like dinner plates as one by one, more and more angry female yells and screeches began to fill the room about him as women left right and centre were suddenly jolted out of their zombie like stupors.

"Oh mr Coba"

Dale Coba wheeled about to look down on Rebecca Monday's face only to see her smirking derisively up at him.

"Whatever is the matter?"

Rebecca's eyes glinted with malicious pleasure as she batted her eyelashes up at him just as someone coughed loudly into a microphone.

Dale stepped away from her his mouth agape in horror as he looked up to see Sherlock Holmes and John Watson standing on the stage where the band had just been playing, only now all the performers were all silent and watching with fear or intrigue.

"Sherlock…"

"She's not a robot" Sherlock smirked down at the man smugly. "she never was."

There was a sudden silence as all the angry women and terrified men in the room quickly turned to see what Sherlock was talking about.

They soon all caught sight of Rebecca who stepped away from Dale to twirl around on the spot shaking out her hair in a crude mockery of a shampoo commercial.

Dale quickly looked back at Sherlock his face calm but pale, the vein in his brow now twitching dangerously.

"You couldn't do it?"

"…No…" Sherlock admitted quietly. "no I could not turn her into one of your  _perfect_  wives"

"Why not?" Dale narrowed his eyes.

At this Sherlock looked to Rebecca a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Because…I never need to"

John blinked.

"Sherlock…" he murmured as he looked towards his friend. His eyes widened in surprise as he saw the verdigris orbs soften ever so slightly as they took in the warm proud smile upon Rebecca's face.

Somewhere across the globe in a hidden room, Mycroft Holmes pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

_Sherlock what the hell are you doing to yourself?_

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daww! poor Mycroft what am i doing to your brother?
> 
> Don't worry sherlock will be back to his old self in no time :)
> 
> Keep R&Ring for more :)


	27. The Cat's Out of the Bag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Love is the most selfish of all the passions.”   
> ― Alexandre Dumas, The Three Musketeers

"So…" John clicked his tongue as he and Sherlock made to sit down in the private jet of the that was currently transporting them both and Rebecca and the children away from America and back to England, courtesy of Mycroft.

"Rebecca wasn't ever a robot?"

"No John, she was never a robot. She merely had an advanced Cybernetic implant installed to change her behaviour" Sherlock shook his head in exasperation. "Big difference"

"But it didn't work?" John tilted his head but the detective smirked.

"Oh no it did work. Worked quite magnificently. That code that Mr Dawson gave me before his death was Dale Wellington's passcode to override the software and shut it down."

"So Rebecca was pretending the whole time?"

But Sherlock shook his head.

"Not for the first two days. Dale had told me that he would be keeping a watch over the entire household for at least the first twenty four hours just to be sure."

"Alright…so twenty four hours" John nodded though his face was set sternly "So why the extra day?"

"I wanted to observe the effects of the implant myself" Sherlock shrugged.

"But wouldn't such a sophisticated form of technology take you more than one day to study?" John frowned.

"It would've…" Sherlock murmured. "but…"

John's eyes widened as he saw his friend sigh softly.

"…But what Sherlock?"

"…She had become so much more stupid than normal it was ridiculous" but even as the detective murmured his voice fell away as he withdrew into the silence of his mind.

* * *

**_1 Week Ago_ **

Sherlock Holmes stepped back down the dimly lit stairwell and back into the basement. It was quite plain with blank light grey walls and a light wooden work bench in the middle. Before it stood a woman, her pretty face smiling blankly at him.

Sherlock allowed his gaze to soften ever so slightly as he met the pair of green hazel eyes.

He didn't understand why, but the sight of the emotionless orbs was both unsettling and upsetting.

_Mere Sentiment…_

A dark corner of his mind hissed disapprovingly as he took a step towards.

_If I were to kiss her now it would be no different than if she were conscious. We'd still both respond physically the same way as we did day before yesterday._

Or would we?

Sherlock's brow furrowed a little as words from the same lips he was eyeing crossed over his mind swiftly like a blade through grass.

_"Could a machine…could any of these Stepford wives…could they say I love you?"_

_Of course they could…it's just three words_

But even as he snorted his hand had already found its way to her cheek, his thumb running along her bottom lip as he leaned forwards.

She barely moved an inch save to blink or breathe, but even that was just mere mechanics. Even as he gently pressed his mouth against hers there was barely any movement in response save for a slight parting of her lips.

Sherlock pulled away till his nose was merely an inch away from hers and studied her features intensely.

Had Rebecca been really responding she would have either been blushing profusely like an idiot or she would have deepened the kiss of her own volition, again another stupid move seeing as how far the two of them unintentionally went when that last option was tried.

_Or was it stupid?_

The voice in his brain smirked a little.

_You are attracted to her, she's attracted to you. You both wanted physical pleasure and you got it. Fairly logical turn of events._

"But why would I want  _you_?" Sherlock muttered taking in the lines of the woman's face before him.

Rebecca was pretty; he wouldn't deny her that, what with those full lips and those high cheekbones, though hers were nowhere near as sharp as his own. They were soft like the rest of her.

He gritted his teeth as his eyes automatically glanced down at her body, his mind briefly imagining what was hidden beneath the soft red dress she now wore.

_Just a biological defect_

He groaned in aggravation as he felt his stomach churn and the muscles just beneath his abdomen tighten uncomfortably. He dragged his eyes away and back up to her blank face.

"Well don't just look at me say something" he hissed only for her benign smile to widen.

"What is wrong darling?"

"Nothing is wrong"

"Are you sure? You look down. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

"No"

Sherlock's face flashed with sudden anger as she batted her eyes at him sweetly but at the same time enticingly as she leaned in towards him pressing herself up close upon him.

_She looks just like_ _**her** _ _…_

His hands clenched at his side.

No, Rebecca was not like her sister. She would never react so docilely to such a command, nor would she sell herself to get out of a situation.

She was smart. Not as smart as himself perhaps, but smart enough to keep her wits about her in trouble. Her only issue was her sentiment.

_And now that is gone…_

And that was what confused him. Sentiment was a chemical defect in his opinion…a hindrance more than a help more often than not. And yet…

…and yet…

* * *

"Sherlock!" a feminine voice called to him from the front of the plane.

The consulting detective turned is head to see Rebecca holding onto the plane's inbuilt telephone line, her hand over the receiver.

"Sherlock it's Mycroft he wants to speak to you at once"

"Oh joy" Sherlock rolled his eyes as he stood up and walked over to take the phone from her.

"Play nice" she quickly reached up on her tiptoes and pecked his cheek lightly and winked jerking her head at the receiver of the phone from which his brother's disgusted voice sneered.

" _Sherlock could you kindly tell your little wife to keep her hands to herself when you two are together_ "

"Oh I don't know I am rather starting to enjoy  _having_  her around" Sherlock's mouth twitched upwards in a small smug smirk as he watched said wife walk off to go check on the twins who were busy watching a movie.

He could almost see Mycroft roll his eyes on the other end.

" _Sherlock, she is the sister of that dominatrix and-"_

"And you're worried about me are you? How quaint"

" _Hardly_ " Mycroft snorted. " _But on the topic of worrying, Mummy is nagging me to tell you to hurry up so that you can come back. It seems she really wants to see the children again_ "

"Perhaps I could send Tabatha and Theodore to stay with her and father" Sherlock suggested. "It might keep them out of trouble for a while-"

" _No Sherlock_ " the elder Holmes brother snapped " _We can't risk them falling into the wrong hands._ "

"It's Moriarty isn't it?" Sherlock's eyes narrowed "He's got someone searching for them to kidnap them"

" _Yes and no. Yes it's Moriarty that's given the order…but he's not the one who wants them. Apparently it is the request of one of his clie-_ "

"The father" Sherlock cut across him at once. "It's their father isn't it? Gwen's… _husband_ "

He hadn't meant for the word to come out like an angry snarl but it had. In truth it was such a feral sound that Mycroft bristled on the other end.

" _It will soon be Ex-husband, but yes. Anthony Toddhunter…the CEO of Red Fox Broadcasting_ "

Sherlock's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

"Toddhunter? As in Tony Silver Tongue, the man that-"

 _"The man that knocked up our dear little sister all those years ago"_  Sherlock could almost see his brother roll his eyes  _"yes. Him"_

There was absolute silence for a full minute before Mycroft talked again.

" _Now little brother? Just what did you say you were doing aga_ -"

But there was only a beep as Sherlock, scowling, hung up the call before slamming the telephone back into place on the wall of the plane.

"Well, that looked like a pleasant chat" John looked up from his laptop from which he had begun typing on as Sherlock sat back down in his spot across from him.

However for once he consulting detective did not say anything. He only glowered out the window.

John's eyebrows rose in astonishment as he looked upon him. The light eyes were glaring so hard and so venomously at the glass it was like he was trying to laser burn holes into it.

"Sherlock"

"Hmm…"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing" Sherlock sharply snapped his scathing look onto the doctor.

John opened his mouth to protest but even as his eyes made to check the rest of the plane he caught sight of Tabatha and Theodore sitting some way off. He quickly changed tack.

An angry Sherlock was never a nice sight to behold, child or adult.

"Listen…while we were at the men's association I found out the identity of that shooter"

"Hmmm and he is?" Sherlock pressed his fingers together in thought.

"Sebastian Moran"

"Moran?" Sherlock's eyebrow quirked up as his eyes sparked with recognition.

"You heard of him?" John straightened up in his seat as his flatmate snapped back.

"Of course I have. Sebastian Moran, Ex-Colonel and one of the best marksman in the British Army. Dishonourably discharged for the multiple war crimes in Iraq-"

"No" John muttered darkly with a scowl of his own. "No Sherlock, not just war crimes…murders…massacres. You should've heard the stories the other blokes told back in the barracks. The guy's like the bogeyman of marksmen, a true cold blooded monster"

"And now he's working for Moriarty" Sherlock tapped his fingers together. "How very fitting"

John's brow furrowed as his flatmate's gaze slid slowly to the other side of the plane. The doctor turned to see what he was looking at, though it did nothing to alleviate the dread that had settled over his dropping stomach.

It was Rebecca. She was now tucking in the twins under a pair of blankets, for they had now fallen asleep in the middle of their movie. As she leaned in to kiss Theodore's head of blonde curls, John turned back to Sherlock and murmured quietly.

"Moriarty's not finished with her yet is he?"

"Of course he isn't…" Sherlock's eyes fell slightly. "From what Mycroft and I have been able to find out, she's perhaps Moriarty's only living witness to his crimes"

"Witness?" John blinked in bewilderment.

"Look for articles of the Carl Powers case" Sherlock gestured to the machine which the doctor quickly proceeded to search on.

When he found the results of the search a few moments later he stiffened his eyes widening considerably.

"Good God" he breathed as his eyes roved over the digital copy of an old clipping from the London Times "She was there…he-he dragged her under-"

"It gets better" but Sherlock's face was grim as he leaned forwards to murmur quietly. "She saw Moriarty put the poison on the shoes and just after it happened he indirectly confessed his crimes to her. When she threatened to dob him in to the police he tried to kill her to tie up all his loose ends-"

"But I escaped" a tense feminine voice spoke from beside them.

John started as Rebecca made to sit in the chair beside Sherlock, her mouth set in a thin line.

"I ran straight back home to Plymouth on my own. Used cash so no one could trace me."

"What happened when you got back?" John asked worriedly.

"Mum, Dad were really surprised but then they were worried when I told them about what happened to Carl. But I didn't tell them about Jimmy. I was afraid that if I told them that they would go to the police and that Jimmy would find me and…well…"

She made a slicing gesture across her neck.

"And what about your sister?" Sherlock narrowed his eyes sidelong at Rebecca but she only shook her head.

"Same story I gave my parents. Probably for the best because Irene wouldn't have gone to the police she would've gone directly to Jimmy in person and probably killed him herself and that would've been disastrous"

"She was a very protective older sister then?" John raised a brow. From his brief encounters with the somewhat self-absorbed Dominatrix he'd never would have figured her to be a caring protective sibling.

"Well that depended on the situation." Rebecca shrugged relaxing a little in her chair "if she knew I could handle myself she'd let me take care of it. But if I was really in over my head she'd always be on hand ready to help…or tear the bastard to shreds with her riding crop"

Now both the detective and the doctor had raised brows the latter's mouth slightly gaping a little in shock.

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "What? She's been a dominatrix by trade since she was eighteen what else could you expect?"

"…fair point" John nodded but then quickly asked blushing to his ears "So wait…you knew she was into…um…all  _that_?"

"Oh yeah" Rebecca snorted "I knew since the start. I will admit back then I thought it was kinda cool but let me tell you all that leather, whips, chains bondage and S&M got old pretty fast…though it was fun while it lasted"

She grinned, enjoying the way John spluttered, his face redder than a beetroot and how Sherlock was staring sidelong with narrowed but amused eyes.

"Miss Monday may I just say you are one woman full of surprises"

"One of my many talents Mr Holmes" Rebecca giggled softly with a small wink.

"I'm sure"

_Great now I'm the third wheel am I?_

John bristled a little as he did his best to avoid watching Sherlock's light verdigris eyes smoulder slightly as they traced over the lines of Rebecca's smiling face.

"So…back onto the real matter at hand" The Doctor coughed loudly and at once there was silence as both Rebecca and Sherlock turned to look at him nervously.

"You didn't tell  _anyone_  about what you'd seen Moriarty do?"

Rebecca shook her head.

"Not a soul…although…" she quickly looked down and gulped, as if something was troubling her.

"Who was it?" Sherlock leaned forwards with intrigue "who found out?"

Rebecca looked startled for a moment at his question but then quickly sighed as she remembered just who she was talking to.

"I don't honestly know. It was kind of odd…it was a week after Carl drowned…I was at the park with Reenie. The first time I'd been outside of my room and house in days. I'd been rather terrified of leaving it since Ji-" " she paused to gulp down the lump in her throat "since  _Moriarty_  had threatened me. I was so scared of him finding me that I had shut myself away from most people; I even lashed out at Irene…that's why she had gone to get me the ice cream to cheer me up. But anyways as I was waiting this boy came and sat next to me."

"And what was this  _boy_  like?" Sherlock asked, his voice quiet but Rebecca just shook her head again.

"I don't know… I was reading and I had my book in my lap so I didn't see his face but I heard his voice. He said 'don't worry. I'll solve it I promise' and when I looked up to see who he was he was gone"

"Wow that is…odd…" John mumbled with a frown of confusion that he directed towards Sherlock just as the telephone on the wall rang shrilly once more.

"Well that sound's important" John muttered quickly bracing himself to stand but Sherlock beat him to the punch, rolling his eyes in exasperation as he strode off down the length of the plane.

"Wanna bet its  _Brother Dear_  again" Rebecca waggled her eyebrows.

"Maybe he's trying to save Sherlock from your-ahem- _corruptive influence_ " John coughed.

"Oh-ho! Really? I'm a corruptive influence?" Rebecca put a hand over her mouth in mock shock.

"Like you wouldn't believe" John smirked and they both burst out into another fit of chuckles just as Sherlock slammed the phone back down hard onto its holder.

The sound was so loud that even Tabatha and Theodore were jolted up from their sleep. They glanced curiously up at Sherlock as he gave a low growl of aggravation and ran a hand through his hair.

"Uncle Sherlock-" Tabatha began but he quickly put up a hand to silence her as he strode over to John, snatched the laptop away from him and quickly opened his email inbox.

There were a couple of moments of silence as he stared hard at the screen before promptly clicking whatever window he had open off and shoving the machine back into a very perplexed John's hands.

"Sherlock?" Rebecca asked timidly as Sherlock passed her.

However he did not say a word, nor acknowledged her presence as he merely strode over to the private plane's bedroom and slammed the door behind him.

* * *

It was dark on the plane when Sherlock finally emerged from the plane's only bedroom.

He narrowed his eyes to squint in the dark as he looked about the several seats where four figures were doing their best to sleep curled up in the plush chairs.

_Now…where's the laptop? Ah…damn…_

He frowned when he saw that it was in its case right inbetween the chairs Rebecca and John were both sleeping in.

_It's a good thing they're such heavy sleepers_

He mused gratefully in his head as he tiptoed his way over to crouch by the side of his pretend wife's chair.

Quietly as a mouse he took the dark case from her side before scuttling over to an empty pair of seats behind the two of them his eyes darting to the front of the plane where Tabatha and Theodore were both sound asleep on the plush lounge closer towards the cockpit.

After a moment of watching and gauging the sounds of his fellow passengers breathing patterns, he quietly withdrew the laptop from its case and placed it on his lap, deftly plugging in a set of headphones just before the start-up sound could play.

He waited till the machine had loaded up, wincing a little as the blue light of the screen hit his eyes in the semi darkness of the planes interior.

However he had more to worry about than the brightness of the computer's monitor at this moment in time.

His eyes narrowed as he searched a hard-drive inside the machine, arriving at a folder labelled "For Sherlock J" which he opened at once.

In it there was one movie file, labelled "hello".

He clicked on it, his fingers almost viciously slamming down on the mouse pad in the process and at once a media player software package came up with a thumbnail of a red fox's stylised head flashing before his eyes.

He pressed play and at once his ears were filled with the sound of a familiar male's nasally high voice.

_"Hello Sherlock! How are you? My regards to your dear Doctor Watson. I wish him a speedy recovery with his shoulder. And how's the family? they are doing well I hope? Why don't we take a look"_

Sherlock's teeth clenched in his jaw as images of his niece and nephew flashed over the screen as the nasally voice dubbed over them.

_"Oh don't they look so adorable with their little school bags and all their little friends, all having so much fun? Why they look just like what you and your dear Gwenny did back when you were at school together"_

And now on the screen was a pair of much older school photographs in which a boy and a girl each sat, both with dark curly hair and wearing similar white shirts with blazers, though the boy had a tie whilst the girl had a ribbon.

_"Aww Sherly! Even then you wore suits so well…but not as well as my dear Toffee"_

At this Moriarty's voice turned into a soft hiss as another photograph played on the screen, this time of a young eleven year old girl with curly blonde toffee blonde hair that was plastered to the side of her wet face as she swam about in a large swimming pool.

_"Oh yes and let us not forget these shall we"_

Sherlock's eyes hardened as images after images, flowed over the screen. Each one was of Rebecca, most of them were of her from a distance…most of them were recent…most of them…had himself in the picture. There was even one of them both dancing together at the Red Fox Charity Ball, their faces close together and their eyes locked into one another's.

But it was the last image that truly hit home for the consulting detective.

Actually it wasn't even an image…it was a video…a black and white video of a man and woman laying naked on the floor of a study, desperately holding onto one another as they moved in frantic unison.

Sherlock's knuckles clenched tight as the sounds of passionate, rough masculine grunts flowed from the headphones and he shut his eyes, doing his best to block it out. However his composure wasn't to last for long and he bit his snarling lip hard as a woman's voice moaned loudly in his ear.

Moriarty sniggered wickedly.

_"Oh…what a naughty little vixen she is…I must admit Sherlock you are one lucky bastard. What I wouldn't give to switch places with you and be the one that draws such sounds from her delicious little lips…but alas…you stole that moment from me"_

There was another moan and Sherlock's eye snapped open just in time to see the video's image be replaced by the face of a sneering man with short brown hair and strange brown eyes, wrapped up in a white straight jacket and strapped to a metal chair in a blank grey room.

 _"tut-tut Sherlock…"_  Moriarty tilted his head to the side his eyes glinting horribly as he gave a mock pout  _"Stealing daddy's favourite toy. Daddy's very upset now. So upset that he won't play nicely anymore with you."_

_BAM!_

Sherlock jumped a little in his seat as Moriarty suddenly bolted forwards so that his crazed manic face was almost pressed right up against the screen of the camera he'd filmed himself with.

_"Now it's time to face the music…time for the war to begin. Be sure to place your pieces well on the board, for I will show no mercy, for you see I have the solution to the final problem. And this time Sherlock Holmes…the gloves are off!"_

Sherlock stared hard as Moriarty leant back from the screen his face quickly morphing into a calm small smirk.

_"Till next time on the battlefield my second muskete-"_

There was a small clicking sound as Sherlock shut the top of the laptop down with a snap.

Had anyone woken up at that point they would have been rather terrified at the furious snarl over his face as he made to shove the offending machine back in its case, before striding to put it back where he found it.

He'd just put it down on the ground beside the chair when Rebecca turned over in her sleep.

He stiffened, still crouching low so that her face came tantalisingly close to his as it leaned on the back of the plush seat she was curled up in.

_Good she's still asleep._

He silently sighed as he caught sight of her shut eyes and even breathing. However he did not make a move to stand up just yet. Instead he watched closely, his sharp eyes taking in her features as moonlight from the small windows outside streamed in to glow over her face.

She looked so calm and serene, far more at peace than he'd ever seen her awake, her lips quirked upwards in a small smile even as she made to snuggle further under her blanket, which had precariously begun to slip from her shoulder.

She grimaced slightly as she tried to unconsciously reach for her covering, her fingers missing their target at every attempt.

_Typical messy sleeper._

Without much thought Sherlock's hand reached out to grab it before it could slide off completely and quickly drew it back up around her.

When he was sure it was secured about her he leaned in close, his lips brushing against the centre of her forehead as he murmured softly.

"Don't worry Rebecca. I'll solve it this time…I promise…"

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TADAA! hi i'm back!
> 
> sorry for the long wait. life happened and this chapter was taking me ages to figure out so i took a break from it to clear my head.
> 
> anyways i hope you guys enjoyed and keep R&Ring for more


	28. Home Sweet Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A man travels the world over in search of what he needs and returns home to find it.”   
> ― George Moore, The Brook Kerith

"Oh Sherlock, John you're back! How wonderful!"

Sherlock Holmes almost winced at the loudness of Mrs Hudson's simpering coos as she opened the front door to 221 Baker Street.

John however couldn't help but smirk as the older woman made to pull him close for a hug before quickly tugging in Sherlock for one of his own.

"alright now, enough's enough Teddy, Tabby," Rebecca quirked a brow down at the now sniggering pair of children that she ushered through the front door.

The consulting detective could feel his ears go pink with embarrassment as Mrs Hudson pulled away from him to rush over to Rebecca with whom she exchanged a kiss on each cheek.

"Oh my dear! How are you? You look wonderful. The fresh new air has done you good I must say."

And indeed it had, Sherlock noticed with a small frown.

She looked so happy and so radiant just like that time they'd been walking in the garden. Her hair had looked like rich smooth toffee and her eyes were more green than blue and seemed to have a bright light twinkling in them. She even was still wearing her bright blue summer dress that she had worn for that tea party on that first day.

"Yes it was a rather pleasant change. But still it's good to be home." Rebecca smiled warmly as her eyes roamed about the familiar small hallway about them and up to the staircase where Sherlock was busy sneaking up unnoticed.

_Home…_

He thought bitterly as he stopped in front of the door to 221 B. Yes this was the door to his home…his and John's…just a bachelor pad…

_just like before…_

He turned quietly to look down the staircase where Rebecca was busy opening up the doors to 221 C with Theodore and Tabatha in toe.

He watched as her hands worked the key into the lock, unaware that John had come up beside him and was eyeing him worriedly.

"Sherlock…aren't you going to go in?"

"Hmm?" Sherlock blinked and then suddenly remembered that his hand was still on the door knob.

"Oh…yes I suppose I should…um…open that" He mumbled as he quickly pulled open the door and zipped straight inside before John could even call out hurriedly:

"Sherlock! Wait!"

But too late, the doctor could already hear the door to the consulting detective's room close with a snap.

It was late in the evening. John was sitting up in the living room watching the television with Tabatha and Theodore on the couch. Or rather, the two twins had fallen asleep half draped over him whilst he watched the end of the show.

For some strange reason he could not fathom, during their stay in Sunny Hills the two twins had both developed a strange liking for the British series of Poirot and Marple Mysteries.

Not that he was complaining. Day time television was usually useless rubbish and truth be told it made a nice change that he could see a crime unfold and not have to bother with having to figure it out, or have Sherlock explain it all for him.

And speaking of Sherlock…

John's eyes swivelled about towards the door to his friends' bedroom.

He had not come out for nearly the whole day and when John had come to check up on him he'd just been sleeping heavily on his bed.

"Yoo-hoo!"

John jumped a little as Mrs Hudson quietly peered about the kitchen door "John dear are you alright? You don't need anything for your arm do you?"

"Oh no Mrs Hudson. I'm fine…we're fine" he added as he nodded down to the two sleeping carcasses of children that were half draped over him.

Mrs Hudson's smile warmed up considerably.

"Oh now isn't that sweet. I wish I had my camera here but it's at the shop for repairs" then she added softly in a whisper "And…how is …um You know who?"

"you-know-wh-"

"She means me"

Both Mrs Hudson and John nearly jumped in fright as Sherlock's tall shadow loomed into view as he stepped into the living room. He was currently dressed in his pyjamas and favourite blue dressing gown, his curly hair dishevelled and his eyes strangely dark and worn.

"Sherlock what's wrong? Can't you sleep? Would you like some milk or tea-"

"No thank you Mrs Hudson" Sherlock snapped as he brushed past her and out the door.

"Oh dear…" Mrs Hudson bit her lip nervously "He's been barely back for twelve hours and already he's worried about something"

But even as she spoke John was on his feet and peering out the door down the stairs just in time to see the hem of a blue dressing gown disappeared through the door of 221 C.

"I think it's alright Mrs Hudson" he snorted under his breath. "Sherlock just needs to sort out some things with his  _wife_ "

"What? Oh…" Mrs Hudson's eyes widened and as she followed John's gaze

"Oh you mean Sherlock and-and…"

John smirked as he gave a small shrug. Mrs Hudson's face split into a wide excitable smile as she whisper-squealed.

"Well…it's about time!"

* * *

Rebecca sighed heavily. She'd just come out of the shower and was now lazing about in her favourite black and red silk dressing gown on the chair in front of her vanity.

_My room…_

She mused quietly.

_My room in my own flat…on my own…_

Rebecca couldn't help but feel rather bitter about that.

As stressful as being on the case in Sunny Hills had been, she could not deny that those small moments when it was just her, Sherlock, John and the twins spending time together like a normal family…it had been…nice…

_Who am I kidding…that was all just a façade anyway…now we're back everything will be just like before… as if nothing ever had happened…_

She sighed again as she began to run her brush through her damp hair.

_I need a trim…_

She rolled her eyes as she caught sight of the split ends beginning to form at the tips of the toffee blonde locks.

She wondered faintly whether she should just cut it all off and be done with it.

_Maybe a pixie cut would be nice…_

She mused only to cringe internally as she tried to imagine herself with short hair. It wasn't a good image.

"your hair looks fine just the way it is you know"

Rebecca squeaked and dropped her hairbrush hard onto the vanity as a pair of large pale hands gently placed themselves on her shoulders.

"Sherlock" She groaned pinching the bridge of her nose "don't sneak up on me like that"

Sherlock just chuckled, the baritone voice somehow even deeper in the semi darkness of the dimly lit room.

He smirked softly as he saw Rebecca look up in the reflection of the mirror to watch as he leaned down to murmur in her ear.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist"

"Oh really?" Rebecca quirked a brow up at him doing her best to ignore the small shiver that had run up her spine.

But it was too late. Sherlock had noticed it too, she could see his eyes simmer darkly for a moment as they fixed themselves on her face, drinking in every feature with a familiar intensity.

"I still cannot do it" he mumbled with a frown.

"Do what?"

"Read you."

"Oh…" Rebecca bit her lip worriedly at his concerned expression. "And is that a bad thing?"

"…I don't know" Sherlock admitted softly as he leant his head down so that his forehead was pressed into her shoulder. "But it's damn infuriating"

Rebecca had to smile as she heard him give a small puff of exasperated frustration. Gently she reached back with one hand and coaxed his head up so that she could look him closely in the eyes.

"Sherlock…it's ok you know"

"What is?" he pouted grumpily and she giggled softly.

"To be normal sometimes"

"But I don't want to be normal." Sherlock growled, more to himself than to her. "I don't want to be dull, stupid and unimaginative."

"Like me?"

"Yes" Sherlock grunted but then froze and gulped as he saw Rebecca's face turn stony.

_Oh no…_

"We'll I'm sorry Mr Holmes but this is just who I am and I can't change that. Now if you'll excuse me this normal, dull and stupid woman needs to get to bed" Rebecca snorted derisively in his face as she stiffly stood up to her feet.

"Becca" Sherlock's eyes narrowed.

"No Sherlock" she shrugged him off and strode over to her wardrobe. "It's ok I get it. The genius Consulting detective Sherlock Holmes is too intelligent for us mere dumb mortals to comprehend and we'd do much better if we were to just roll over and let him use us as he wishes-"

"Shut up!" Rebecca winced as she felt long arms wrap about her middle and pull her back into a warm pyjama clad chest.

"Sherlock" she grunted as she struggled but Sherlock's grip on her tightened as he growled softly in her ear.

"Miss Monday. I have been called lots of things in my life. A psychopath, a freak, a bastard. Now I don't care about those stupid dull insults, however I will not, I repeat  _not_ , tolerate being accused of being a dishonourable cad. Especially by you…You infuriating, enigmatic, sentimental, devious little minx"

"Me a minx?" Rebecca snarled as she turned round in his hold so that her face was right up in his. "I'm not the one who keeps sending out mixed messages every two seconds!"

"Mixed messages?" Sherlock's gaze hardened in return to her green and blue hazel orbs flashing up at him fiercely "What was so unclear about my intentions? I told you that night we first kissed that the game was on and that I would do whatever it would take to solve you"

"I'm not a case of yours Sherlock!" Rebecca hissed doing her best not to let her cheeks flare up as she felt his hands grip tight at her waist. "I'm not just something you can solve and fling aside once you're finishe-."

"What makes you think I would ever let you go?"

There was a stunned silence as Rebecca stared wide eyed up at Sherlock whose face was almost livid as he held her securely to him, his hot breath fanning hers in small huffs.

"huh?" Rebecca nearly cursed by how breathless and how timid her voice sounded in the dark room.

"I said" Sherlock murmured, his voice a lot softer but still somewhat tense "What makes you think I would ever let you go?"

"I…" Rebecca gulped "I don't understand…"

"Yeah well neither do I." Sherlock grunted gruffly "You're  _ordinary_ … I should by all means be able to read you…but you're like this rubix cube. You look so simple but I just can't figure you out. I don't know how to twist you, how you work. I try and try to figure out who you are, what makes you smile, what makes you tick, but I can't and it just drives me up the wall! Sometimes I wish you just were an inanimate object just so I could just yell at you, curse you, vent out at you and toss you out the window and onto the goddamn road…but every time I look at you and I see you standing there it's just… I can't just drop you and be done with it. I have to solve you. No, scratch that I  _need_  to solve you, even though I know that I never will be able to complete you. I can't help myself I can't-"

"…Sherlock…" Rebecca breathed as he fell off quickly and stepped away from her, releasing her from his grip as he ran a hand over his face.

"I'm sorry I disturbed you" he muttered his eyes darting down to the floor beneath his slipper covered feet. "Goodnight Miss Monday"

But even as he made to walk over to the door he felt something grab his arm.

He turned back around just in time to feel Rebecca as she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him down to her.

The kiss was nothing more than just a simple press of mouths but to Sherlock it felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He pressed himself against her harder, revelling in the way her soft silk clad body seemed to press into his. His grip was tight about her hips even as she pulled apart to whisper softly.

"Better?"

"…yes…" Sherlock mumbled. "Much better…"

Rebecca shook her head with fond exasperation as she saw his pupils dilate and contract as his conflicting emotions whirled about in his head haphazardly.

"See. Now this is what happens when you work yourself up. You get all huffy and stressed. But don't worry. A goodnight's solid sleep should clear that up"

"I'm not  _huffy_  or  _stressed_ " Sherlock pouted though he made no move to detach himself from her. "And I don't feel like sleeping"

Rebecca just smiled gently as she leaned up to whisper in his ear.

"Even so…come to bed"

"Why? oh…" Sherlock felt his face heat up considerably as he felt a pair of lips brush gently over his earlobe.

"Oh well…If you put it that way miss Monday, I suppose I could-"

But then just at that moment, his pocket buzzed.

"A moment" Sherlock whispered and Rebecca rolled her eyes.

_Typical man, the phone comes first…and he has the audacity to call me a minx! HA! I'll show him minx!_

"Lestrade this had better be good" Sherlock clipped as he put his mobile phone to his ear. However it was proving to be very difficult to concentrate on the policeman's words when he could feel Rebecca's lips press against the skin of his neck softly.

"Yes…yes…I…I understand. No Lestrade I'm fine…I'm…I…I just…" Sherlock gulped and bit his lip hard to suppress the shudder as he felt a slender hand slip under his shirt.

"Yes I understand and I would discuss this further but…listen I'm kind of busy at the moment so just call John and give him all the details and I'll contact you as soon as I can. ok bye"

He clicked off the phone and shoved it back into his pocket before looking down at Rebecca who bit her lip oh so innocently.

"What's the matter Mr Holmes? Is there a problem."

"Yes." Sherlock growled against her lips "You are my problem"

Rebecca just grinned as she dragged him back towards the bed.

* * *

Meanwhile back at Scotland Yard, Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade looked back to the woman who sat across from his desk in his office. She was tall dressed all in black, with long dark curly hair and an attractive high cheek-boned face.

"So?" She quirked a brow.

"He said he's busy" Lestrade sighed heavily and set the phone back down on his desk.

"I know" the woman smirked smugly.

"Of course you do" Lestrade barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he resettled the papers at his desk before turning back to the woman expectantly. "So until I can reach him what can I do to help you Miss Holmes?"

Gwendolyn Joanna Holmes gave a cold smile.

"First off you can just call me Gwen. And secondly…" her eyes hardened ever so slightly "You could listen to what I have to say before you pick up that phone again and call my  _eldest_  brother."

Lestrade's hand, which had been twitching towards his phone quickly withdrew back to his lap. He felt his cheeks flush. For a strange reason he felt like a schoolboy that had just been caught out by his school principle.

It didn't help his mood that the youngest Holmes sibling before him had piercing light verdigris eyes just like her second brother's.

_Damn Holmes and their strong weird Genetics!_

"I'm listening" he said through gritted teeth as he did his best to look pleasant.

"I have a friend…a friend who might be in trouble. He has just acquired a very valuable item. I believe you've heard of Turner's painting  _The Reichenbach Falls_?"

Lestrade's eyebrows rose in astonishment.

"Yes I have. It's going to be on display in two months at the National Gallery-"

"No it's not"

Lestrade blinked.

"What?"

Gwen's lips curled up slightly, her eyes glinting as she leaned forwards in her seat.

"The Reichenbach Falls will never be on display in the National Gallery"

"And why not?" Lestrade gulped though he already had a sneaking suspicion, one which only grew as Gwendolyn's eyes narrowed.

"Because on Friday of this week, it's going to be stolen and replaced with a fake in an operation led and financed by a man everyone believes to be a saint"

"Who?"

"My husband…Anthony Toddhunter"

Lestrade snorted loud.

"Anthony Toddhunter? The owner of the T.V. network? Why would he want to rob a painting?"

Gwendolyn just smirked softly. "Like I said, people think he's a saint. Only we both know as well as anyone in this world that sometimes to fly so high one must not be afraid to get their hands dirty."

"Well that may be" Lestrade coughed "but still we are talking about a high and mighty CEO of a big corporation. And even if you are his wife, what proof do you have of this…heist?"

"None whatsoever" Gwendolyn shrugged. "That's why it's up to you and Sherlock and his dear doctor John to solve this case before it happens. Because if that painting is stolen…then we're all going to get royally screwed over."

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey There again!
> 
> I know it's been a while since my last post but here we are. we're almost there at the end of Season 2! YAY!
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed and keep R&Ring for more


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